Self Reliance
by Chaco
Summary: There are three things one must know to get through life: Number One- The best laid plans and expectations can change at any moment. Number Two- Always adapt to those changes. Number Three - Do what you have to in order to survive.
1. Chapter 1

I own nothing and receive no payment for this work.

* * *

Learning to be self reliant takes time, and hard work. These are the steps: Assume responsibility, know where you are going, make your own decisions. Yes sir, it's hard work to become self reliant. Anyone of us could use a bit more than we have. If you're not self reliant, you'll never do anymore than just get by.  
A little dose of self reliance can do wonders.  
Now, you may think that's the end of the story. Actually, it's only the beginning.  
\- Developing Self Reliance (1951)

* * *

"STOP!" Hermione shrieked, grasping at Ron Weasley's robe as he pounded Gregory Goyle's face in. Of course, he looked no better; Madam Pomfrey would be repairing his teeth and his bleeding scalp if the professors of Hogwarts didn't turn him into a greasy spot as punishment for this brawl. "RONALD! STOP!"

Harry wasn't faring as well. Vincent Crabbe had the Boy Who Lived by the hair, attempting to grind his face into the stone floor of the Entrance Hall as half of the student body watched. This didn't stop Harry from doing his best to get as many hits in as he could.

"You're such a fucking idiot, Crabbe," snarled Harry as he swung a bloodied fist up and slammed it into the boy's already bruised face. The Slytherin released Harry with a howl, clutching his nose. Harry kicked out, shoving the boy back to the ground before he began pummeling him in the face.

The crowd around them pressed in, shouting their encouragements at the brawl.

"Kick his arse, Harry!" Someone shouted from in the back. A camera flashed, making Hermione turn to glare at the offender. Colin Creevey immediately looked sheepish and slid back into the sea of bodies pushing forward.

"Ten galleons on Weasley!"

"I'll do fifty on Goyle," Pansy Parkinson shouted.

"Don't take that shit from them Crabbe! Use your wand!"

Hermione, exasperated at the situation and more than worried about what the professors would do, pulled out her wand and pointed it at Ron.

"Stupefy!" The red light shot from her wand, landing square on Ron's back. He stumbled and fell to the floor in a faint. Goyle was about to use that to his advantage when Hermione trained her wand on him.

"Don't test me," she growled. Goyle backed up, hands in front of him. It was enough to get the attention of the other two, just as Professor McGonagall pushed through the gathered students, her usually neat bun falling from its hold. The crowd fell quiet, suddenly shamed at their vulgar display. A wave of the Deputy Headmistress's wand had Ron waking up with a groan, clutching at his head.

"What is wrong with you?!" Professor McGonagall snarled, looking at the damage then glaring at the now silent bystanders, "One hundred points, each of you! For fighting and a month of detention with Filch. Now get to the hospital!"

"They started it Professor," said Ron, "they called Hermione a mudblood."

Neither Slytherin looked repentant, but kept glaring at the two Gryffindor boys as they peeled themselves off the floor.

Professor McGonagall threw her hands up, the normally unflappable witch at her wit's end with frustration.

"Ronald!" Hermione admonished, "It's nothing new at this point. Please, stop trying to defend my honor. If it hurt my feelings I'd say something." In truth, it did hurt but she was so numb to the term now it didn't matter. There were greater issues to be concerned with. She walked across the floor to Ron, carefully stepping to avoid the drops of blood that littered the stone pavers.

"Oh no, Miss Granger. You are going to class. These imbeciles can all get themselves where they need to be," said Professor McGonagall.

Hermione nodded, looking at Harry apologetically. His face was beginning to swell as black and blue bruises blossomed over his skin.

"I'll help them Professor, I've got my first hour free," Lavender Brown volunteered, hurrying over to Ron. Hermione's eyes narrowed as she watched the witch run her hand up Ron's bicep, murmuring to him. Ron nodded at the girl and stood up.

"Good," said Professor McGonagall before she narrowed her eyes on Crabbe and Goyle, "I'll be speaking to Professor Snape regarding your conduct here."

Professor McGonagall turned and made her way towards the staircase, muttering under her breath about the audacity to even begin fighting on the first full day of term.

Shouldering her bag, Hermione moved to follow her. It was odd to see the Slytherin boys pick a fight in such a muggle fashion. Beating the living hell out of someone using your hands was supposed to be something that muggles did, not old stuffy traditional purebloods.

The fact that they were going at it barely twenty four hours into the beginning of term was frustrating to say the least. Between the tensions that rode high throughout the Wizarding World and the way Harry had zeroed in on Malfoy as being a possible Death Eater, and therefore under constant suspicion, was enough to do her head in.

There was always something and Harry was probably right. The bouncing Ferret of infamous renown probably was up to no good. The question was what? He had to be doing something for the Dark Lord. After watching him with his Aunt at Borgin and Burke's Hermione was sure that whatever it was, it was not good.

Hermione spent the last evening, while she and Ron waited for Harry to appear, watching the blonde prat. He talked with his friends, and ate. But his appearance in speaking with his friends lacked the normal better-than-thou attitude. He barely touched what he put on his plate. His eyes held shadows beneath them.

The Ferret was stressed. Having a Father in Azkaban and Merlin only knew what else going on at home would do that to anyone. Hermione sniffed as she turned into another corridor. Whatever was going on, it served the evil prat right.

Finally arriving at her Arithmancy class, Hermione took her usual spot towards the front and pulled her book, parchment paper, and quills from her satchel. After arranging them neatly on the desk in front of her she glanced around at the other students. While this was a N.E.W.T. level course, she didn't expect for there to be so few of her classmates.

The announcement that Voldemort had returned at the beginning of the summer made parents withdraw their children from the school. Rumors even flew around that some had emigrated to the United States, seeking asylum with the M.A.C.U.S.A. Others had left for South Africa and Egypt.

Hermione turned back to face the front of the room and tapped her quill against the table as Professor Vector opened the classroom door and walked in and pointed her wand at the blackboard, an equation appearing in neat script.

"I'd like for you to spend the first part of this class solving the problem. Then we can move onto Nox's Theory of Magical Gravity," said Professor Vector before settling into her chair.

Hermione immediately began to scribble away, her mind focusing on the task at hand and not the fact that the world outside Hogwarts was tearing itself apart.

* * *

End of January, 1997, Hogsmeade

Hermione perused the seldom visited used book section of Tomes and Scrolls, hoping that Mr. Biblio's lack of organization would lead her to something useful. She already carried a book that would help her in her essay on Moon Cycles for Professor Sinistra. Now if she could find something for Harry that would give them information on the Horcruxes Dumbledore wanted to destroy. Her search was proving fruitless. With a sigh she sat on the floor and began to look over the bottom shelf. Her fingers ran over the old bindings, pausing every so often to pull a book out and glance at the chapters.

A laugh escaped her lips as she pulled out an old copy of Lockhart's _Magical Me_. How she ever had a crush on the idiot was beyond her. Why Professor Dumbledore even thought that it would be a good idea to have him teach in the first place an ongoing puzzle. She flipped the book over in her hands and moved to put it back, pausing when the novel wouldn't fit. She pulled the book back out again and looked into the slot.

"Huh," she said, noticing that another book in the back must have shifted when she pulled out Lockhart's excuse for literature. Reaching in, she grabbed the tome for there was no other word to describe the heavy book, and pulled it out.

Her heart started racing as she gazed upon _The Dark Arts: A Practical Guide_ , a large book made of worn black leather and gold ink that was mostly flicked off at this point _._ Hermione looked back towards the counter where Mr. Biblio sat, absorbed in the Daily Prophet, before she turned her attention to the book in her hands.

A flick of her wrist had her wand in hand, and she cast a muffliato charm around her. It wouldn't do any good to have the book start screaming as soon as she opened the first page.

With a great amount of caution, Hermione opened the book to the contents and let a whoosh of air from her lungs when the book didn't start any dramatic noise making. Her curiosity turned to frustration when she couldn't find anything on Horcruxes. Still, it would be worth keeping around.

Hermione looked up at the front counter. Mr. Biblio was still absorbed in his paper. He would surely question her if she attempted to purchase this book. Biting her lip then looking at her satchel, Hermione made the quick decision to shrink the book and shove it into her bag.

'I can always pay him back,' she reasoned as she stood with the astronomy book she did intend the purchase and picked her way through the stacks to the counter.

Mr. Biblio looked up at her with kind blue eyes and smiled, "Ah, Miss Granger, always a pleasure." He set the paper down on the counter and held his hand out for the book. Hermione handed it over and smiled.

"How have you been, Mr. Biblio?" Hermione asked, a sweet smile gracing her lips. Mr. Biblio frowned.

"I'd be quite a bit better if You-Know-Who's forces didn't destroy that homeless shelter in the crossfire with Auror's in Diagon Alley last week. Brought all those vagrants up here. Between them and the Death Eaters I have half a mind to close the shop for a bit; this whole war is bad for business. No one wants anything because they're too scared to leave their homes!" Mr. Biblio said with a growl as he rang up Hermione's book.

A slight bit of guilt bubbled up in the pit of Hermione's stomach as she thought of the Dark book in the bottom of her bag. She stamped that feeling out as she realized Mr. Biblio probably hadn't even catalogued the used books otherwise that one would never be there in the first place.

"You tell your friend that I want this war over with. Make sure he gets the message," Mr. Biblio grouched, pointing a finger at Hermione as she paid and took her book back, "and make sure you stay safe!"

"Yes sir, always," replied Hermione with a smile.

"Mione," Ginny's voice called from the front of the shop making her turn towards the red haired girl, "Harry and Ron said to meet them at the Three Broomsticks for lunch. I've got to pop over to Honeyduke's but then I'll meet up with you. Save us a table in the back, will you?"

"Of course, Gin. I'll see you there," Hermione said before brushing an errant curl out of her face and bidding Mr. Biblio a good day. Hermione lightened her bags with a wave of her wand and carried them out of the store into the cold January weather.

Sleet drizzled down onto the streets of Hogsmeade, teachers and prefects patrolling the streets, keeping an eye out for the students that entered and exited the shops. Despite the happy atmosphere of the meandering students, the threat of Voldemort manifested in the grim lines of the teachers faces, the hard set mouths of the shopkeepers in Hogsmeade, and the general grey that seemed to color all the once shiny storefronts.

Hermione sighed, reminded of the constant strain in Harry's face whenever she looked at him. His eyes were usually rimmed red and bloodshot from the lack of sleep. She'd spent hours in the library trying to find anything that could help him get through this. Help him win. It didn't help that they had a month's worth of detentions after fighting with Crabbe and Goyle at the beginning of the school year. Hermione spent an entire evening scolding the two boys in front of the fire in the Gryffindor Common room. Both had reacted sheepishly, even though the two Slytherins instigated the entire thing.

"Hermione!" A voice called. Hermione spun and saw Ron and Harry walking towards her with grim looks on their faces.

"What's wrong?" She asked, walking quickly to meet them, "Ginny said you wanted to meet at the Three Broomsticks. Why are you—,"

"We told Ginny that we'd be there in a bit. We need to go the Shrieking Shack. It's about… You–Know–Who," said Ron as he leaned forward to whisper. Hermione looked at the two boys and frowned.

"Wouldn't it be better to go back to Hogwarts to discuss this? It's a bit more private." She shifted her bag to her other hand as Harry began to attempt flattening his hair against his forehead.

"No, no time. We need to go to the Shack," he said before grabbing her arm and hauling her down the street with Ron on their heels.

"Harry, you don't have to manhandle me," Hermione said, shrugging out of his grip, "what is wrong with you?"

"Sorry, lots on my mind…" he muttered then kept walking. A knot formed in Hermione's stomach and she followed Harry into the snowy wood.

The trees outside of Hogsmeade towered over the three as they walked towards the run-down building that once housed Remus Lupin during his transformations. The further they went from Hogsmeade, the more her nerves seemed to increase. She frowned but kept behind Harry with Ron practically breathing down her neck until they reached the Shrieking Shack.

The sleet became snow as they stomped up to the Shack. Little bits of water filled white fluff soaked into her cloak, making her shiver. She pulled her wand out, casting an impervious over herself before tilting her head up to look at the boys.

"Now, why are we out here, instead of inside the Three Broomsticks eating steak and kidney pie and drinking butterbeer?" She demanded.

Both of the wizards looked dumbly at her before their lips began to curl up into vicious smirks.

"What is wrong with the two of you?!" She gazed into their perfectly clear eyes. Understanding dawned on her face, "Shit."

She dodged to the side, throwing up a shield just as a spell from 'Harry's' wand slammed into it, making it neatly shatter.

"Diffindo!"

"Bombarda!"

"Incarcerous!" Ron yelled. Ropes shot out from the tip of his wand, slamming into Hermione's shield. Hermione dodged to the side, bringing her wand up to cast a stunning spell.

"Crucio!" A voice shouted from behind her, the spell knocking her onto the ground with a scream. The sensation of a million knives ripped through her body and caused her to seize on the ground. The agony of the curse was tripled as the ice covered snow cut into her skin as she thrashed about. Finally, the curse ended, only for Hermione to be hit with a stunner. Everything faded to black.

"I should have known that the two of you wouldn't be able to contain her," Draco Malfoy said as he stepped from the shadows of the forest, "though I am impressed that you got this far."

Ron's features gradually morphed into the face of Vincent Crabbe, while Harry's became Gregory Goyle.

"She's such a swot. I'm surprised she didn't realize it was us," said Goyle.

"Yeah, she actually took us for her best mates," said Crabbe.

Draco sneered at the stupid witch as she lay prone on the ground.

"Stupid mudblood," he said cast another cruciatus and watched her body writhe before stunning her again. "Hand me her wand."

Goyle leaned over and grabbed the wand from Hermione's hand placing it in Draco's. Draco smirked and snapped the wand in half before looking at the core. "She doesn't deserve a dragon heartstring core."

"Too bad she isn't a pureblood," drawled Crabbe.

"Why's that?" asked Goyle.

"She's fit. Bet she'd be feisty if given the chance," Crabbe replied. Draco grimaced.

"We're not here to screw the mudblood," sneered Draco before withdrawing a small paper crane. He waved his wand and the crane vanished from sight, "a message that we've completed one of our… tasks." Crabbe and Goyle nodded. Then he pulled a rusty can from his cloak pocket and shoved it into Hermione's hand.

"It'll be quite a surprise when she wakes up," he drawled before tapping the can with his wand, watching the mudblood get sucked away into the void.

"What is going to happen to her?" asked Goyle.

"She's got a date in three weeks that she has to prepare for," said Draco as he brushed the snow off the sleeves of his robes.

Goyle screwed up his face, before a look of understanding dawned on Crabbe's.

"Greyback?" asked Crabbe quietly. Nodding, Draco moved to leave the clearing. Crabbe looked back at where Hermione had laid. He knew what the werewolf could do. He knew that Granger could die. He just couldn't bring himself to care.

"Let's go back to the castle," called Draco as he waved his wand over the clearing, making their footprints vanish like they had never existed. Hermione's bag sat in the white powder, slowly getting covered in snow. He stared at the bag thoughtfully.

"Leave the bag. Let the teachers find it and run about in a panic. Let's go back to the castle." Draco cast another spell as the three Slytherins walked back towards Hogwarts, their footprints fading in the snow.

* * *

Hermione groaned as she came to, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dark around her. The waning moon gave off some light; enough to see that she was nowhere near the Shrieking Shack. Instead of the snow covered ground she remembered, she felt water flowing all around her, icy to the point of pain. She sat up with a wince as her whole body began protesting, small tremors moving through her limbs making her shake.

Sitting in a marsh, surrounded by bulrush was not the way she envisioned spending her evening. Standing on shaky feet, Hermione looked around before she reached for her wand only to find it wasn't there.

The previous events of her trip to Hogsmeade came flooding into her mind.

"Those… those… FUCKERS!" She bellowed, unable to find a better term to describe what she knew had to be Crabbe and Goyle under the influence of the Polyjuice Potion. They must have been planning her abduction for months. She picked up the rusted can and threw it into the water before kicking her way out of the marsh and onto drier land.

Draco Malfoy must have helped them, because there was no way they could brew an adequate Polyjuice or summon a decent Cruciatus; considering how inclined they were at failing the simplest of assignments.

Hermione wrapped her sodden cloak around her, trying to get her bearings. Crags interspersed with gorse were on either side of her, while the stream she landed in flowed down to an old medieval tower, surrounded by a fallen stone wall. Gorse surrounded the wall and Hermione was not sure she wanted to pick her way through to get to the shelter. Without her wand though, she couldn't apparate and she sure wouldn't be able to cast a drying or warming charm on herself.

With a resigned sigh, Hermione began moving down to the tower, fantasizing about how much pain she wished she could put the three Slytherins in when she got back to the school.

An hour later she was covered in small cuts from the thorns on the gorse and her cloak ripped into near shreds rsomewhere between the stream and the stone wall. But none of that mattered because she couldn't take her eyes off the mutilated carcass of a large red deer that sat at the foot of the wall. She was sure that nothing in Scotland could kill something that big as viciously as this one had been ripped apart. Wolves hadn't been reintroduced as far as she knew.

She looked back up at the sky, noticing the waning moon, and cringed. It had to have been a werewolf. Her gaze focused on the dilapidated tower. There was no way it would be living in that place. It looked like it hadn't been touched in centuries.

Hermione swallowed the nerves that danced in her stomach and up her throat before stepping over the stone wall. Warmth encased her, reminding her of Christmases with the Weasleys, before Hermione realized why. Without her wand she couldn't get a direct image of wards, but still, the magic hung in the air; as if it were holding up a giant 'WELCOME' sign.

The tower still looked the same from before crossing over the wall, stones falling here and there, a rotting door that hung off iron hinges opening up to the dark interior within. Hermione crossed the yard and leaned into the shadows. The smell of dust and disuse permeated the air. Slowly, she moved the door, jumping back as the wood fell to the ground in a sodden heap.

Once she was sure the way was clear she began making her way inside. Despite the dark, the moon shone through the slotted windows built into the wall of the spiraling stairwell. Hermione made her way up, slipping every so often on the worn steps.

Finally she was at the top, in a large room filled with old swords, archery supplies and one skeleton.

Hermione crept forward to the skeleton, noting the fine jewelry that adorned the once living person. The necklace that hung between the ribcage caught her attention and she reached her hand out, entranced by the silver chain and gleaming emerald. Her fingers made contact with the metal, just in time for a loud POP to sound behind her.

Hermione jumped and whirled around, before landing on her arse next to the skeleton.

"Mistress Nathair is here to free Pip!" A squeaky voice said with a hint of brogue in its accent. Hermione was dumbfounded when a near naked elf stepped forward from the shadows, "Mistress can save Pip!"

And Hermione always thought that this stuff only happened to Harry.


	2. Chapter 2

Game of Thrones-esq shit up in here, y'all.

* * *

Violence is never the answer, until it's the only answer.

DEREK LANDY, _The Dying of the Light_

* * *

Hermione stared at the house elf in confusion as he walked over to a small fireplace in the wall and snapped his fingers, igniting a flame.

"I'm sorry, but… what did you say your name was?" she asked, closing her eyes for a moment so she wouldn't have to look at the elf's bum. He turned back to her, firelight illuminating his small form. He was an odd looking elf, a scar down one side of his face and less clothes than she had ever seen; even on Dobby.

"Pip, Mistress! And you is the Mistress Nathair. You is here to free Pip from the tower the Lord Slytherin imprisoned him and the last Mistress in!" Pip looked at the skeleton next to her, running his fingers over the ribcage of the skeleton, tears in his big green eyes.

"I'm… what?!" Hermione cried, trying to stand. Immediately Pip was at her side, helping her, his emotions forgotten with a few blinks of his eyes to make the tears go away.

"Mistress is here to free Pip from the tower that Slytherin imprisoned him in," said Pip, as if it was the simplest thing in the world, "Mistress must move to the fire, soaked she is."

Dumbfounded, Hermione let the elf lead her to the fire and sat next to it, waiting for warmth to seep back into her body. Pip began undoing her cloak, but she stopped him when he went to remove her shirt.

"No, you really don't have to—," Hermione began, Pip shushed her.

"Nonsense; I serve the house of Nathair and Mistress is the last of her line, she must be cared for," said Pip as he tugged her shirt off and hung it by the fire.

"Pip," Hermione said with a shiver as her body began to warm up, "I'm a muggle born. I'm not the last of any line. I don't have a line."

Pip made a 'humph' noise before he threw a worn, well used fur around her shoulders. "Mistress will learn in time. But now Mistress must eat."

Pip disappeared with a pop, then reappeared a moment later with a small bit of dried venison. Hermione looked at the meat then at Pip, questions swirling in her head at rate that was making her skull throb. She reached forward and took the bit of food from the elf's fingers, examining it before biting into the flesh. It tasted dusty and old and took a full minute to chew and swallow.

"Pip, you need to answer some questions for me," said Hermione as she crossed her legs and leaned forward. The action made her stomach lurch, but she swallowed a gulp of air and willed her muscles to relax.

"Pip will answer Mistress as best as he can." Hermione ignored his title for her and pulled the most logical question to the forefront of her mind. Pip didn't look at her, but began to examine the wounds she received before arriving.

"Where are we?"

"We're in Alba, Mistress. But you would call it Scotland." Hermione frowned at the elf.

"Why would you call it Alba? What does it mean that Slytherin imprisoned you here?" she asked in a lowered voice, preparing herself for a bomb to be dropped. Pip looked up at her again and the serious look on his face would almost be comical if Hermione wasn't feeling like throwing up the bit of venison she just ate.

"Pip has been frozen in this tower for a very long time. Too many winters and summers Pip sat and watched the world change."

Hermione leaned forward and touched the elf's shoulder. "What happened?"

"Mistress loved another… a muggle… when she was bound to Lord Slytherin to be his concubine. She dishonored her family by conceiving a bairn. Lord Slytherin imprisoned her in this tower when he learned of her betrayal, and Pip along with her. Lord Slytherin took her wand and presented it to Lord Greyback and told him to guard the tower, to have his ancestors guard the tower. But Mistress would not be cowed. She used the last bit of magic she had and gave up her life so Lord Slytherin would never find the child, for he would destroy it, and she wove a spell into the magic of Slytherins wards so that only a true Nathair could cross the wards and break my imprisonment," Pip looked down, tears falling freely off his cheeks. Hermione pitied the elf, and resented the cruelty of Slytherin.

"If I am a Nathair," she began after taking a deep breath, still not believing the elf in front of her, "then are you now free to go? Could you apparate us from here?"

Pip shook his head and began sobbing, "No! Mistress must reclaim the late Lady's wand! It is her birthright, but the Wolf has it!"

This time Hermione couldn't control her stomach's reaction and vomited all over the floor in front of her. Pip said Lord _Greyback_. The elf sniffled as he held Hermione's hair back before waving his hand, vanishing the venison filled bile. When Hermione could breathe again she lifted her head and looked at Pip.

"Is the wolf Fenrir Greyback?" she whispered.

Pip shook his head, "I know naught of the name Fenrir. I know the Wolf will come when the moon is full, and Mistress must be prepared."

"And you cannot leave?" Hermione swallowed, trying to keep whatever bile she had left in her stomach at bay.

"Nay. Not until the Mistress has her wand in hand will I be free to leave with her."

Hermione wanted to curse her bleeding Gryffindor heart. She couldn't leave the elf there, alone, probably to starve to death once the venison ran out. Perhaps he would want true freedom if they both came out of this situation alive. Or he'd try and slam his head in an oven at the mere suggestion. Either way, she had to at least get him out of the tower.

"Alright," she sighed, "what do we need to do?"

* * *

The arrow landed with a thwack in the target, but still missed dead center.

"Shit." Hermione swore as she walked forward and pulled the arrow from the target. Her hands were slowly getting stronger, despite the fact that they were bruised, calloused, and bloodied from all the chores that Pip had Hermione doing. The elf was a task master.

"Try again, Mistress. Remember to breathe outwards when firing the arrow," said Pip as he brought up a small bucket of oil that Hermione was to pour over the gorse she collected over the past weeks. Hermione hated gorse, and if she could ever drop Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle into an endless patch of it she would. She'd even risk the broom ride to make it happen. Or a plane; perhaps making them skydive without a wand or a parachute was what those boys needed to really open their eyes. Hermione smiled to herself, fantasizing how they would scream when she pushed them out.

"Mistress! You must keep practicing. The Wolf will be here in a few days! You must save us from being eaten!" Pip admonished.

"Sorry, just… got lost in my head for a moment," Hermione nocked the arrow and drew back, remembering to correct her stance and breathe as she loosed the arrow. It flew across the yard from where she and Pip stood in the doorway of the tower and smacked into the wooden board she erected as a target. Still, it missed dead center. Pip shook his head.

"Mistress must attack first from a distance. The Wolf will be big and Mistress is very small." Pip began to correct her stance, going so far as to climb on the rocks of the doorway and grabbing her shoulders and pushing her into a better position. Still, he couldn't entirely leave the door frame so it made Hermione's task of learning archery and general weaponry more difficult than it had to be.

"Mistresses muscles aren't used to such a stance. But this will be the best." Pip hopped back into the shadows of the tower and gave her a swift nod.

Again, Hermione nocked the arrow and took aim. A tingle went up her spine as she let released her breath along with the arrow. This time it hit home, vibrating in the center of the target.

"Yes! That's the way, Mistress!" Pip said, jumping up and down behind her. Hermione smiled over her shoulder.

"Thanks, Pip." She moved to put the bow down.

"No Mistress, now you must learn to nock the arrow faster." Pip darted back into the shadows then returned with a quiver of broadheads. Hermione groaned and resumed her stance. Her fingers ached, but she would have this down to an art form when it came time to face Greyback. There was nothing that couldn't be done if you put your mind into it.

"Who taught you archery?" As Hermione attempted to keep her movements fluid; from picking up an arrow to making it sure it was on the bow correctly before shooting. The arrow hit its mark. Pip clapped. She loaded another one and shot.

"Pip is a War Elf. He served the last Lord Nathair before he served Mistress," said Pip, bumping her leg in encouragement, "you have the late Mistresses talent! Pip is proud to serve you!"

It took Hermione a few days to become used to having Pip at her beck and call. Now, weeks later, she hated it still, trying to convince the elf that it wasn't necessary to be so devoted. When she began to mention his freedom from servitude a few days into her stay, he began sobbing so hysterically and tried to throw himself in the fire; she did her best to drop the subject at that point but it was still an irritation sitting in her head.

Hermione got a few more arrows in the target before she went to collect them. When she returned Pip was gone. The clatter of broken crockery echoed down the stairwell and she knew that Pip was preparing an evening meal with what they could scrounge up. She rolled her shoulders then walked down to the stream beyond the crumbling wall.

The thought of Fenrir Greyback ripping her to shreds always set a chill in her stomach. It was hard thought to digest that he would eat her if given the chance. She shuddered and stuck her hands in the ice cold water, rubbing them together to wash some of the blood off her fingers that were raw from hooking around the serving of the bowstring. Then she stood and began to pull the dormant bulrushes surrounding her from the mud, rinsing the plants off in the water.

Her days camping with her father, learning about wild flora kept her and Pip alive while they prepared for Fenrir to make his appearance. In the mornings Hermione would cut down the gorse, putting the plants in the bottom of the tower for Pip to dry before she scattered them around the base of the fallen wall outside the tower and covered them in oil. Then she'd forage for roots that had no taste but enough nutrition to keep her and Pip up in calories.

The most disgusting thing though, was to scavenge the deer carcass for food. She spent a painstaking day carving off the meat that clung to the skeleton, carefully avoiding anywhere werewolf saliva could have touched before salting and hanging strips outside the tower in the frozen winds.

Hermione hurried back to Pip and the thought of a warm fire, a handful of rushes pressing against her bruised palms. When she arrived at the top of the tower, Pip was sharpening a knife. He looked up with glowing eyes and hopped to his feet, scurrying over to Hermione.

"Good, Mistress has brought food!" Pip took the rushes and tutted when he saw the state of Hermione's hands. "You work hard Mistress. Once Pip is free, he'll make sure that Mistress never has to do chores again."

Hermione smiled, "It's an honor to help you Pip and it keeps me busy."

Pip blinked away the tears in his eyes and nodded. "Mistress is too kind." He turned to the fire, where water boiled in an old pot, and picking up a rag dipped it into the liquid before shaking the excess out. He returned to Hermione and cleaned the dirt off her hands while Hermione hissed at the sensation of wet heat warming her through to the bone.

"Oh, that's nice," she muttered. Pip kept quiet, though the corners of his mouth quirked up at her reaction. Hermione moved towards the fire once Pip was done cleaning her hands and sat down to re-braid her hair. Pip took up his knife and began chopping up the still edible parts of the rushes. This was their routine every night. Pip insisted on feeding Hermione as much as he could so she would remain strong for the encounter with Greyback.

"I'm really not looking forward to fighting him as a muggle would, Pip," Hermione said as she braided her hair off her face, "I wish I had a wand. I feel… naked without it. Like something is missing."

Pip dumped the plants into the water and pulled the venison from a pouch next to the fire and placed it in Hermione's lap. "Mistress must focus on the getting the wand back from the Wolf. Then she and Pip can leave."

"How am I supposed to get it off his person if he's transformed into a wolf? It's not like there's a pocket I can reach into." Hermione lifted the meat and bit into it, shredding the fibers between her teeth before reaching for a horn of water.

Pip smiled into the fire, showing his rotted teeth, and tilted his head. "A Wolf such as Lord Greyback will be capable of many things. The Wolf can control his change. He may only partially transform."

Hermione stopped eating and stared at Pip.

"Werewolves can't control their change. Not any that I've ever met," she said. Pip shook his head.

"Wizards write the books Mistress, not the wolves," said Pip, before snapping his fingers making the tender part of the reed fly out of the water and onto a wooden trencher. He handed the plate to her and then went back to sharpening the knives.

Guilt crept into Hermione's conscience. Despite her best efforts with S.P.E.W. she was still laughed at when she even brought the subject of equality up. Her heart broke for Remus Lupin. The man could barely hold a job despite being more than capable, all due to prejudice.

Hermione sniffed, picking up the reed and biting down.

"Pip," she said after chewing and swallowing her food, "would you ever want to be on an equal level with a wizard?"

Pip looked at Hermione and immediately shook his head so hard that his ears smacked about his face.

"No. Pip likes to serve. Pip knows his place and is happy." The house elf leaned back against the stone wall. "Mistress must stay strong for the battle to come. Eat more."

Knowing that the house elf was encouraging her to drop the subject, Hermione turned her attention to her meal and her reflections.

* * *

The blood that coated his tongue tasted of rich iron and life cut short. Some would consider it too soon but he didn't. The child was ill, smelled ill, looked ill, and acted ill. He was just helping natural selection along.

It was his role after all; to mete out Death. It was his _honour_ and _privilege_. The Dark Lord just made it easier to access prey. Though Fenrir considered this a mercy killing; this one time. The little girl, barely two, wouldn't survive to three; and her parents wouldn't care at this point anyways. Their limbs and internals were strewn about the front parlor downstairs.

That's what happens when one defies the Dark Lord.

Fenrir looked at the little girl, her form already pale against her red dress. Blood blossomed like a rose from the rip in her neck. Her death was swift.

"Ready, Greyback?" said Antonin Dolohov as he stepped from the shadows, "I hear you've got a busy night ahead of you; something to do with having a mudblood for dinner?"

Fenrir smirked and stood, tossing the toddler in his arms onto the bed before looking at the wizard. "Yeah, going to enjoy it too. The Malfoy boy said that he broke her wand, can't wait to see if she's even alive or half frozen. I hope she's still got some fight. They taste better seasoned with fight."

Antonin grinned and clapped the blood covered wolf on the back.

"Well mate, take a good look at her for me, see how she's doing with that cursed scar on her body. Tell her I said hello while you rip her throat out."

Fenrir nodded at the wizard, and gripped his wand. The Nathair Wand.

"I promise to say hello while I rip out every vital part of the mudblood. 'specially her cunt. Bet that'll be delicious if she's as… interesting as you say," said Fenrir, his voice in a low growl as he thought of the feast to be had.

Antonin laughed as he moved towards the door, "Oh, she's a feisty one. Pretty; long neck, brown eyes, hair that radiates magical energy… and power. So much power." His eyes glazed over for a moment as he thought of the night he encountered the mudblood. Quickly he snapped back to reality.

"Shame she isn't a pureblood. The Dark Lord would be fucking her simply for the sake of continuing the Slytherin line. Hell, I'd be fucking her for the sake of continuing my line, all that power…" said Dolohov as he stepped into the hall. He turned back to Fenrir with a wave and a jovial smile, "have fun."

The dark haired wizard disapparated, leaving Fenrir alone with his latest meal. He looked at the little girl once more, her brown curls covering her face. He shrugged and walked over to the body, pulling it up by the arm and back into his arms. He sniffed her hair, his eyes flashing iridescent blue before he sunk his fangs into the girls arm, pulling her flesh and bicep from bone. His eyes closed as he relished the taste again as the muscle and skin became a ground glob in his mouth. He swallowed and opened his eyes again.

After dumping the body back onto the bed, Fenrir stepped back and disapparated.

Tonight promised to be delicious.

* * *

Full Moon

Hermione groaned as Pip shoved yet another knife onto her belt. "Pip, I won't be able to walk with all this metal on me." Pip scoffed and tightened the leather sheath on the belt.

"Mistress' ancestors handled a full metal suit. Pip's doing the best he can to make up for lacking in proper armor." He pulled on the strings of Hermione's bracer before stepping back and looking at her.

The amount of blades that hung from her hips, tucked into her trainers, and strapped to her arms were staggering. Still, if she didn't land a good hit, Fenrir Greyback would be tearing through the worn leather before she could blink. He may even rip through her regardless of how much she tore at him.

Her hands shook as she padded the arrow filled quiver looped over her back. It wouldn't be as practical to have it there but she could always take it off if reaching arrows became hard. She held the bow in her other hand, the grip slipping in her sweaty palm.

"We may not make it out of here Pip," she whispered, staring into the fire. Pip stepped back and looked at his mistress. He wouldn't tell her, because she hated blushing, but she looked formidable this night. Her hair braided back from her face, leather and metal reflecting the firelight.

"The Nathair have a saying Mistress," he whispered, grasping her hand and squeezing it with his own small digits, "Exeo bene."

"I die well," Hermione whispered back. Opening her mouth to take a deep, shuddering breath, Hermione looked down at the elf.

"Alright. For you, and what is right… I'll defend or die well."

Pip patted Hermione's knee, his eyes glinting with tears, "That's the way of it, Mistress."

The taint of the child's blood still lingered on his tongue, arousing an interest for _more_. More blood, more death, more destruction. The Greyback line would be honored this evening when he killed the impure, and the line of Slytherin's beliefs upheld.

The cold air of the harsh highland whipped at his face as he appeared in the gorse. He knew this land well, his ancestors having hunted on these grounds for the Slytherin line for the last eight hundred years. He sneered at the thought of the Gaunt line, attempting to control his family two hundred years ago. It hadn't ended well for the Gaunts, with nearly every male being wiped out. But the Dark Lord, he promised to bring glory back to the line of Slytherin and as a result, Fenrir would hunt for him. Fenrir would destroy for him; the Dark Lord promised Fenrir blood and savagery. Tonight Fenrir would embrace his ancestor's traditions.

Tonight he would devour the impure.

The ice on the ground stuck to his bare feet as he walked through the gorse towards the Nathair tower. The thorns pricked at his skin, drawing spots of blood against his lightly tanned figure.

He wondered how the mudblood would taste; if she'd ever been fucked or if she was a virgin. He could smell her on the wind, lilies and lavender all with the undertone of fear. Fenrir swallowed the saliva that overwhelmed his mouth and finally pushed his way through the brush.

Fenrir expected a lot of things. A fight, perhaps a half starved mudblood, maybe even her body already given into frostbite and death. What he didn't expect was Nathair tower to have the wards broken, a fire lit in the room at the top, or to take an arrow to the chest.

Roaring in pain, Fenrir stumbled back and pulled the offending object from his flesh, ignoring the grating feeling of the broadhead on the bones of his ribcage. He snarled and tossed the object to the side, staring into the gloom of the tower base, able to make out a feminine shadow lurking in the dark. He went over the possibilities of the mudblood being able to break down the wards without a wand. Many tried through the centuries while being aided with a wand and none had succeeded. But this girl, this… wandless cunt of a _mudblood_ , did. Fenrir snarled, his quick thinking arranging a change of plans for the wily female; one that would involve the Dark Lord having final say on the witch, if she survived.

The moon peeked out from behind the clouds, calling at his wolf. The animal reared up on hind legs, begging to be released, begging for blood. Fenrir let his mind reach out, running his hand down the flank of the beast that lived within him. Soon enough he would unleash himself. But first he had to see the mudblood.

A small flicker of firelight appeared in the dark of the tower, illuminating the doorway with a brilliance that blinded Fenrir's preternatural senses. He blinked once before the fire flew from the doorway and into the dried gorse that surrounded the tower. The plants lit up, a circle of heat and light irradiating the feral looking girl who stood in the door way with another arrow aimed at his heart.

'She was a clever thing, though perhaps naïve,' thought Fenrir, 'to be using old muggle tricks to defend her space.' He grinned at her, letting his canines elongate to sharp point that glinted in the rising moon. Flicking his wrist, his wand dropped into the palm of his hand. Another arrow shot out at him, disintegrating as it slammed into his shield.

"Silly mudblood wants to play," he growled, extinguishing the flames that hindered his progress to the tower.

Hermione gasped as Greyback began to walk towards her. His eyes were electric blue, nearly white, in the firelight. His scar covered face was framed with hair that looked as if it'd been styled using blood. Hermione stepped back into the tower, feeling Pip's presence just behind her knee.

"Upstairs, Pip," she whispered, though it wouldn't have been a surprise if she began screaming her orders, "hide."

Pip disappeared with a POP and Hermione drew her sword just as Greyback entered the tower. Taking the high ground, Hermione moved towards the stairs, slowly backing up them with the tip of her sword pointed at the half changed werewolf.

"Stay away from me!" She yelped out, raising the sword as Greyback drew closer.

"Now pet," he rumbled through the snout that was fast forming, "is that any way to talk to your benevolent executioner? I wanted to make this easy."

It was a moment's pause before the werewolf lunged at her, taking the tip of the sword through his bicep. He snarled, smacking Hermione down to the ground with a swing of his good arm. She landed on the steps with her head cracking against the stone. Dark spots floated in her vision, dancing in circles before disappearing when a burning pain exploded in her shoulder.

Rearing up with a scream, Hermione kicked out at the werewolf mauling her shoulder. Greyback barely moved before he let go, blood dripping down the white fangs. A brief thought of a fucked up candy cane flickered through Hermione's mind before the teeth were coming at her again. Thankful for Pip's training, Hermione pulled one of the small daggers from her side and slammed it into Greyback's cheek and twisted.

Greyback howled, backing away to try and pull the knife free. As he turned from her Hermione saw the wand slipping from his shredded sleeve.

"PIP!" She screamed, lunging forward into the werewolf, barreling into his knees and knocking him off balance.

Hermione knew house elves were loyal to their masters to the point where it was a fault. But she was certainly thankful of that fault when Pip practically flew down the staircase, a large dagger in his hand, and his mouth contorted into a vicious snarl. The elf landed on the werewolf's back and began stabbing wherever he could. Hermione heard the metal grating on Greyback's ribcage and nearly threw up at the sound.

The ebony wand fell to the floor as Pip screamed in Scots at his victim, twisting the knife in his back. Fenrir howled, fully becoming wolf before he reached behind him, attempting to pull the small elf off his back with his bloodied maw.

Dizzy, Hermione crawled forward towards the wand, slipping across the floor that was now slick with blood. Just as Pip was flung down next to her, bruised but certainly not bleeding, Hermione wrapped her fingers around the wood. A loud clap of thunder shook the tower, like a shockwave spreading from the point of Hermione's wand hand and outwards across the Scottish countryside; an announcement that the spell on the tower was fully broken. Pip grabbed Hermione's hand, sneering up at the werewolf. Greyback snarled before lunging at the witch and her elf.

"Exumai!" Hermione shrieked, pointing her wand at the creature. Immediately he flew through the door and out into the gorse. His enraged howl ripped through the air and Hermione looked at Pip, who offered a grim smile before snapping his fingers making them disappear.

When a quickly healing Greyback padded on four large paws into the tower, the only thing he found was a pool of his and the witch's blood on the floor, and a note written in their blood on the stone steps stating:

" _Your move, arse–face. - Pip_."


	3. Chapter 3

Not as Game of Thrones-esque but still, watch yo' self.

* * *

I'm a long way from the land that I left

I've been running through life and cruising toward death

If you think that I'm scared you've got me wrong

If you don't know my name, you'll know it now

I belong bodily to the earth

I'm just wearing old bones from those that came first

There are many more flames when mine is gone

They will build me no shrines and sing me no songs. – Lord Huron

* * *

Magic filled her, working through the wounds, flitting along her tendons and ligaments before closing up the fascia. Hermione groaned; letting her head fall back onto the frost covered ground. Pip knelt next to his Mistress, a soft glow emitting from his hands.

"Mistress should be able to walk to the Infirmary before the venom takes hold," said Pip as he moved his knobby fingers along the wounds in Hermione's shoulder, "Pip doesn't have much magic that can help a Wolf's Bite, but he is trying."

"It's alright, Pip. Let's get inside before I bleed out," Hermione sighed before rolling onto her stomach.

Pip snorted, "Mistress won't bleed out. Pip is handling that." He backed away from Hermione as she stood and blinked at the sudden dizzy spell. Holding her head in one hand and Pip taking her other hand to help her balance, they made their way through the iron gates of Hogwarts and up to the Entrance Hall.

"Pip," Hermione whispered as she paused to fight back the nausea that threatened to spill out of her mouth, "Don't mention the name Nathair to anyone. Just say that I saved you from a werewolf and that earned your loyalty."

Pip nodded, "As Mistress wishes. Now, inside Mistress, before the chill takes hold." He tugged her along, both hunched against the cold that permeated the air.

As they approached the large doors that led into the confines of Hogwarts, Hermione heard it and looked up suddenly. The drone of hundreds of voices was deafening, though the owners of said voices were nowhere to be seen.

"What the bloody hell?" Hermione said, moving forward to place her hands on the door.

"What is it, Mistress?" asked Pip, casting a wary eye about them.

"I–I can hear voices. I think of the students," Hermione pressed her ear against the door and sure enough, the voices became clearer.

"That's the Wolf's Bite, Mistress," Pip said, tugging on his ear, "the venom flows in your blood now. Things will be changing for you."

"That's just bloody lovely," snarled Hermione, a growl escaping her throat. She looked down at Pip with wide eyes. He shrugged and patted her thigh.

"It'll be alright, Mistress," he said.

Hermione inhaled the cold air, shivered and pushed open the front door. The warmth of the castle seeped into her skin, warding off the chill that sat in her bones for the past few weeks with a welcome caress. The Entrance Hall was empty, all the students tucked into their dinners in the Great Hall. Hermione began to lead Pip past the entry way, her stomach growling at the scent of food. Roast chicken and mashed potatoes to be exact.

Then she heard it, the snarky laughter of one Draco Malfoy, followed by the stupid guffaws of his two cronies. Then she smelled the Polyjuice, an old scent that barely lingered but enough to make her fury coil from the pit of her stomach and come forth. Before she knew what she was doing, she was entering the Great Hall while Pip tried to pull her back.

* * *

Harry Potter shoved the mashed potatoes around his plate and set down his fork. The situation was entirely too fucked up for his liking and he'd already been through enough stupid scenarios to last a thousand life times. He was tired of it all but not as jaded as he thought. He missed Hermione, and constantly blamed himself.

When she hadn't met them at the Three Broomsticks, he'd gone looking for her. The day was cold and soggy enough to keep most people indoors so no one had seen exactly where Hermione wandered off to. Finding her bag at the Shrieking Shack put him into a whirlwind of panic. ' _Did Voldemort have her_?'; ' _Was she alive? Please let her be alive'._ After the Professors were informed of their missing student all hell broke loose.

Of course Rita Skeeter took the chance to smear Hermione's name. A speculation written by the horrid reporter appeared in Witch Weekly about Hermione Granger being 'unable to handle the crisis in the wizarding world and therefore leaving'. Hermione would have her head for that if she knew.

Then the fights broke out between Gryffindor and Slytherin in the corridors of Hogwarts. Not just the occasional jellylegs jinx or bat boogey hex. No, students had gotten nasty. Broken limbs, boils, and blood were the daily schedule that Madam Pomfrey had to endure.

The professors, including Snape, seemed extremely tense about the whole thing. Harry pestered Professor Dumbledore as much as possible but all the man would say is "the Order is looking into it". It incensed Harry to no end that his headmaster seemed to wave off any approach, giving only one sentenced answers before offering Harry a lemon drop and making his excuses to leave. Harry was so tired of not knowing what was happening behind the scenes. He barely slept, couldn't easily stomach food, and lost himself in thought that he'd end up not hearing half the lectures he attended.

"Harry, you need to eat. You can't help Hermione if you're starving yourself," Ginevra Weasley said, a frown on her lips as she startled Harry out of his own head.

Harry stared at his plate and shrugged his shoulders, just as Lavender Brown laughed out loud at something Ron said. Despite his mouth full of food, Ron somehow managed to get the pretty Gryffindor Sixth Year to find him attractive. Harry knew what Ron was about. Burying your feelings by burying your cock in something seemed to help the ginger boy.

At least Ron had the decency to use a silencing charm in the dorm. No one wanted to hear Lavender screaming 'Won–Won' in the middle of the night. After Ron and Lavenders first ' _sleep over_ ' ended with Neville threatening to put a Venomous Tentacula in Ron's bed so it would bite his balls off, Ron finally developed a bit of tact; but only a bit.

Harry looked to Ginny, a slight smile creeping up at the corners of his mouth as the witch rolled her eyes at her brother's antics before starting in again.

"I'm serious Harry James Potter, you need to eat!" She pushed the plate towards him and looked pointedly at his fork.

"It's hard to eat when one of your best friends could be dead," said Harry as he picked up his fork and began to push the food around, again.

"Just… try… please?" Ginny begged.

"Fine, Mum. I'll try," Harry muttered before scooping some food onto his fork and bringing it to his mouth. He nearly stabbed himself in the lip when the doors opened with a BANG!

Hermione Granger stood at the entrance of the Great Hall, her wild hair braided back in multiple rows, held with cords of sinew. Her body covered in blood, some still seeping out from the rips in the leather she wore to cover her form. Daggers glinted off her belt as she looked around the Hall, her eyes feral. Then she narrowed her gaze onto the now silent Slytherin table, specifically Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.

The three boys began to rise up from the table, wands falling into their hands. Hermione stalked forward, eyeing her prey.

"MISTRESS! NO! DON'T DO THIS!" A sob tore through the hall. If Hermione didn't look like she was about to commit murder, the nearly naked elf that was tugging on her would have been hilarious. As it was, seeing Hermione look like a savage creature kept Harry's attention more so than what the elf was doing.

A dark wooden wand appeared in Hermione's hand, raised against a now defensive Slytherin trio.

Hermione got the first spell off, her reflexes suddenly honed to an almost preternatural sense. Without words Crabbe and Goyle flew backwards, their heads slamming into the stone floor with two loud cracks, bodies held down by ropes and embarrassed shame covering their faces.

As Harry suspected he would, Draco Malfoy was backing towards an exit near the Slytherin table, warily eyeing the wand pointed at him.

"Like hell," Hermione snarled as she noticed where he was heading, "Petrificus Totalus!"

Malfoy went down like a bag of rocks before he could throw a shield up. Hermione held a bloodthirsty grin as she stormed forward, wand raised with the intent to curse the boy into oblivion.

The elf was still sobbing when Professor Dumbledore swept past the tables, pointing his wand at Hermione. If she saw the Headmaster coming, she never gave any indication. When a jet of sky blue light hit her torso, she immediately fell asleep, standing up while the elf beside her continued its' hysterics.

The Great Hall was silent with the exception of a flurry of feet coming down from the Head table. Harry moved to stand, his nerves dancing between the rush of adrenaline and happiness that Hermione was back.

"That can't be our 'Mione," said Ron, coming up next to Harry. Harry glanced at him and shrugged.

"It's her," Harry said. He moved towards Hermione, Professor McGonagall giving him a permissive nod from where she stood next to her Lion Cub. "I'm going to the Infirmary with her."

"I'll say goodbye to Lavender and join you," said Ron, hurrying back to the blonde witch to plant a kiss on her lips.

Harry nodded and looked over the now floating body of Hermione. Whatever sort of fight she'd been in, it was a brutal one. Malfoy and his two goons had been released from the spells and were sputtering with indignation at what they'd been put through.

"I don't know why she did that, Headmaster! Maybe she's gone 'round the bend," said Malfoy, his silver eyes glaring at the witch in question. Crabbe and Goyle stood beside their leader, grunting in agreement like a couple of moronic gorillas.

"Well, perhaps we'll have answers when she awakens," said Professor Dumbledore, the twinkle in his eyes gone.

Harry sighed. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Fenrir Greyback hated Malfoy Manor. The ornate architecture, the lack of warmth, Bellatrix's stupid laughter, and most of all he hated being cursed; especially after the night he'd endured. Between roaming the Scottish Highland hungry for virgin flesh and having his pride wounded by a stupid house elf, Fenrir's twenty four hours after the night of the full moon had been hell and it was far from over.

Being Crucioed by the Dark Lord's most faithful follower was the icing on the cake. His body trembled from the effects and he'd pissed himself along the way; the stench of urine wafted through the room. Fenrir hoped it would stay in the carpet beneath him, forever reminding the Malfoy's that a werewolf had technically marked in their home.

"Poor widdle woofy can't kill a stupid mudblood," Bellatrix gloated, flicking her wand. Again his nerves danced with pain, making him roar as his fangs descended to a fine point in his mouth. If he were ever to be given permission to dispose of the dark witch, he'd gladly decapitate her with his claws.

"I sent you to do one task, Fenrir. Why ever did you fail me?" Lord Voldemort's voice was cold and calm next to the cackling Bellatrix. The Dark Lord held a hand up, causing Bellatrix to cease her irritating laughter. The spell ended and Fenrir pulled air into his lungs in the hopes that it would calm his muscles.

"She had help, a house elf," he muttered when he got enough breath before he could add on, Bellatrix was applying her favorite curse once more.

"SHE BROKE– BROKE– THROUGH THE WARDS!" He snarled through the curse. Bellatrix laid off, tilting her head at the werewolf.

"What wards?" she asked, earning a hiss from the Dark Lord. Voldemort knelt next to Fenrir with his yew wand dangling from long bony fingers.

"You had best not be jesting. If the mudblood broke through the wards, without a wand then I'll need to reconsider some of my plans and you know how I hate it when things don't go according to plan," the Dark Lord murmured as he trailed the tip of his wand over the pulse in Fenrir's neck. Fenrir looked at his Lord, his lips curled in up into a snarl.

"Your plans will still come to fruition my Lord. I bit the mudblood; she'll be dead by the next full moon." Fenrir said, swallowing the bloodied saliva that coated his tongue. Voldemort smiled, contorting his face into a grotesque shape with red eyes.

"Wouldn't it be our lucky chance if she survived?" The evil wizard asked. "I imagine that either way, I will need to know the exact reason that she was able to break through the wards. Or if they simply… _opened up to her_."

"My Lord, do you think she is somehow rel—," Lucius Malfoy began, stepping forward from the shadows where he and his cohorts stood.

"I won't know until I've seen her lines," snapped the Dark Lord before turning to the witch at his side, "Bellatrix, send for Severus."

The mad witch nodded and left the room. Voldemort looked down at the werewolf, "Get up Wolf."

Fenrir stood, biting back a pained groan as his muscles screamed in protest, and then looked at the Dark Lord before bowing his head. A cool hand padded his cheek, like a father reassuring a son.

"Dear Fenrir, how long has your family served my line?"

"Longer than the idea of the Sacred Twenty-eight has been in existence, my Lord," answered Fenrir, head still bowed. Voldemort's cold fingers slid into his beard, fingers taking hold of his chin and lifting so once again they looked each other in the eyes.

"Yes, though the Gaunt Family did dishonor your ancestors by trying to completely chain them. You're not meant to be controlled, are you?"

Fenrir tilted his head, gazing at the red eyed wizard, wondering where he was going with this line of thought. "No," said Fenrir, "We are not meant to be controlled. We serve those who are worthy. You are worthy, my Lord."

Voldemort smiled and Fenrir shivered at the feeling of his master's power caressing the Wolf. "Yes… but let's talk about the continuation of your line. How many women have you bitten including… the _mudblood_?"

Fenrir frowned at his Lord as he thought up the body count. "Sixty-three, including the mudblood."

Voldemort stepped away, a creepy smile still plastered onto his lips, "And how many of those women have survived past their first full moon?"

"Sixty-two have died, from not being strong enough to complete the change."

"Do you think the mudblood will survive?"

Fenrir curled his lip, thinking of the frightened look on her face as she swung the sword at him. She had grim determination, and no small amount of bravery. But she lacked the murderous edge and that was needed to be a true Wolf. Fenrir shook his head. "No, I doubt she'll survive."

Voldemort sighed, "A pity then. Having her under your thumb would benefit us greatly."

Fenrir shook his head, "We'll have to wait either way. I'm sure that being a fly on the wall of Hogwarts for the next month will be… entertaining."

"Ah yes, speaking of flies in Hogwarts," he turned to Lucius, "how is your boy doing with his task? It was quite surprising that Draco and his _friends_ were able to secure the girl. They've done quite well."

If Lucius was proud, he showed no sign of it. The shadows beneath his eyes had lightened slightly at Draco's success, and he no longer had bloodshot eyes. His skin was too pale, like he hadn't walked in the sun among his gardens for months. If Narcissa made any comment about his appearance he brushed her off with a 'winter is just ending, dearest. I'll be out and about soon'. Narcissa bought the excuse for the most part, but what would make Lucius Malfoy truly content is his son's _complete_ success.

"Draco assures me that he will be ready to open the cabinet by the end of the school year. I promise you my lord, he will triumph. His very soul is in the game," said Lucius as he leaned onto his cane.

Voldemort nodded, "Very good. See that he does not fail Lucius. I'd hate for your family to be without an heir."

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius gulped as he bowed. Voldemort looked around the room.

"You're all dismissed," he said, the Dark Lord's followers bowed and began to shuffle out of the drawing room. Fenrir made to leave, yearning for some fresh air and woods to hunt in when the Dark Lord called him back, "Fenrir, a moment."

Fenrir paused; schooling the irritation on his face into an unreadable mask, then faced the Dark Lord.

"A final request, my Wolf. I want to know as soon as you do if the girl survives the turn. You'll be here first thing after the full moon. Am I understood?"

Fenrir nodded, "Yes, my Lord. It would be an honor to let you be the first to know if a female has been added to my pack."

Voldemort dismissed Fenrir as Nagini slithered into the drawing room, her bulk taking up the floor space. After his master waved him off, Fenrir left, walking briskly down the halls and then exiting out front to inhale the fresh air before casting a cleaning charm on himself. With a month until he absolutely had to return to Malfoy Manor he was going to take every moment of free time he had before reporting back to the Dark Lord that the mudblood was dead. He planned to make the most of it. Ripping into a pretty virgin would do for a start, then he'd have to find another bloody wand. Fenrir spun on the spot and disapparated into the night.

* * *

It got worse every year, with the return of Voldemort, the death of Sirius, not to mention the constant danger Harry was in just for existing. Remus Lupin didn't like it when Harry and his friends put themselves into the path of death **.** He liked it even less when they survived and ended up in the hospital wing of Hogwarts only to have a repeat performance around a year later.

But now Hermione Granger was ahead of the game though she'd most definitely lost this round.

"I swear it was them, Professor! They took polyjuice and impersonated Harry and Ron! I didn't even see Draco Malfoy, but I heard his voice. He cast the cruciatus on me."

Albus Dumbledore looked down at the witch in the hospital bed, his eyes a cold blue. "Miss Granger, be that as it may, everyone in the school has been accounted for at the time of your disappearance; including Messrs. Malfoy, Goyle, and Crabbe."

"Just pull it out of my mind then! Use Legilimency!" Hermione cried out, trying to make her Headmaster see reason.

"He can't Hermione. You've been bitten by a werewolf and to try and go into your mind may scramble it," said Remus as he pulled up a chair at the foot of the bed. The bite and claw marks were healing nicely but she'd spent a good portion of the morning after waking up in tears.

"I still can't believe you didn't just leave, 'Mione. All for a house elf…" Ron shook his head. The bushy haired witch gasped at him, her hands covering her lips.

"Ron!" Exclaimed Harry, staring at the red head in disbelief, "could you form some sort of tact? Look at her!"

Hermione began sobbing again as Pip patted her hand and glared at Ron. "Mistress is brave and true to herself. Pip will forever be in her gratitude."

"Well this seems to be a place that I won't be lingering in," a voice behind Remus drawled. Remus turned around to see Severus Snape standing in the entrance of the wing, one brow cocked up and a sneer curling over his lip.

"Well, you weren't invited," snapped Harry. Hermione slowed her tears down to stare at Harry in horror as the boy's face flushed when he realized what he'd said and to whom he said it.

"Sorry," Harry muttered.

"On the contrary, Harry, I did invite Professor Snape here," said Dumbledore as he took his spectacles off and used his wand to polish them, "we have a few things to discuss with Miss Granger. First, the Wolfsbane Potion that we will be administering to her before the next full moon and secondly, her detention which she will be serving with Professor Snape until the next full moon."

"Oh, you have got to be joking," moaned Hermione as more tears began to streak down her face. Harry grabbed her hand and held it tightly.

"You can't do that!" Ron sputtered, his ears turning red with indignation.

"It's already been decided, Mr. Weasley," sneered the dark haired professor.

"We'll get through this, Hermione. Just like we've gotten through everything else," he said before turning to the Headmaster, "Sir, why are you giving her detention? She's been bitten by Fenrir Greyback and acted irrationally because of it."

Dumbledore nodded, "I see Remus has updated you on how it is for some people once bitten. Although, I confess I have not heard much about the female reaction to werewolf venom. I am giving Miss Granger detention to keep up appearances. Of course it's easy to say that she was in quite a state of shock when arriving at Hogwarts and was not thinking clearly. The student body and general public can buy that easily. What they wouldn't buy is Hermione receiving special treatment because of her newly found… issue. Thus, the detention."

"Professor McGonagall has insisted that you use the time to catch up on the schoolwork that you have yet to complete," said Professor Snape, "once you are able to leave the hospital we will be meeting every week night at eight thirty. Am I understood?"

Hermione to her credit, nodded, "Yes, Professor, I understand."

"As far as your Wolfsbane potion is concerned, I will be teaching you how to brew it properly, assuming you have the patience for such an endeavor."

Hermione sniffed and closed her eyes, "Yes, Sir. I do." Pressing her head back into the pillow, she wiped at her eyes.

Snape gave a curt nod and strode out of the room.

Ron shuffled his feet then looked at Hermione, "So, 'Mione. I'll come up tomorrow? I've got to… study for an exam."

Hermione opened her eyes as Harry shot a look at Ron. The strange behavior of the trio wasn't lost on Remus. He could smell another girl on Ron from a mile away. Hermione was probably starting to smell it as well. A familiar scent, overly ripe fruit tinged with honey. The perfume Lavender Brown wore may be pleasant to the average nose, but it made Remus's gag reflex go off.

"Sure Ron, come by tomorrow. I'll just be here, catching up on homework and trying to keep myself from cursing anyone," Hermione closed her eyes again. Ron smiled and left the room, taking the perfume stench with him.

Professor Dumbledore coughed, "I too shall take my leave. There are letters that need to be written and reporters that need to be answered. I've taken the liberty to inform your parents that you have returned to Hogwarts after a quick trip to Romania to study dragons with Charlie Weasley. They are quite relieved at your return since they hadn't heard a response to any mail that was sent to you over the past month. They believe that you had quite an accident and are recovering."

Hermione frowned at Professor Dumbledore and then nodded. "Thank you, Professor. I'll be sure to send them a letter as soon as I am able."

"Good. Well, good evening children," he said before nodding to the werewolf, "Remus."

The Headmaster's golden robes flared as he swept out of the room, leaving Harry, Hermione, Remus, and Pip behind.

"Well," said Remus "there are a few more… sensitive things that I need to discuss. Harry, if we could have some privacy?"

Harry stood, gave Hermione's hand a final squeeze, "I'll be in the hall. If you need anything let me know."

"Pip will inform Master Potter immediately if Mistress needs something," said Pip, making Harry's lip quirk as Hermione blushed. She had to hate the fact that a house elf had sworn himself to her.

"Thanks, Pip. You're a great help," said Harry as he left.

Hermione stared at Remus as he sat in the chair recently vacated by Harry.

"Hermione," he began, "you've had quite a shock. I'm sure that you have a million questions…" he trailed off, waiting for the interrogation to begin.

Hermione shook her head, "I think I've reached a point where I'm going to sit for a moment and take in whatever you're about to tell me. I can ask questions tomorrow."

Remus laughed nervously and ran his hand through his hair, "Well then, this isn't easy to say, but do you remember anything from the werewolf section of your Defense book from third year?"

"I remember all of it. The curse can't be broken; werewolves are bigger than regular wolves. According to the Leitch Ritchie manuscript, werewolves take their shape at the full moon and lose themselves in blood lust. Their hides are nearly impenetrable to most magical curses but it is not the same case when it comes to weaponry, though they heal very quickly. The only scars they bear are from the initial bite and injuries sustained before they were bitten," said Hermione as she sat up to reach her water glass on the bedside table. Pip batted her hand away and grabbed the glass, refilled it, then handed it to her earning a smile from his Mistress.

"You are a smart one. Do you recall any information in your studies on female werewolves?" Remus asked.

Hermione took a sip of the water. Her information was lacking on that particular subject. She'd been mostly concerned with the condition of Remus and the rights of werewolves. "I've never come across that subject. Is there a reason for that?"

"Werewolves prefer to keep to themselves on these matters. I honestly have so little contact with Greyback's pack that I can only tell you a few things. None of them are easy to say."

Hermione tilted her head at the man and raised her brow, "Try me. I've already been bitten, I've got a month of detention and a house elf that will probably never leave my side even if I gave him clothes."

Pip breathed in a shocked gasp, "Mistress wouldn't! Pip would die of shame if Mistress gave him clothes. Pip would throw himself into the Black Lake for the squid to eat, Pip would roast himself in an oven, Pip would walk into the Forbidden Forest to be trampled by centaurs, Pip would—,"

"Calm down, Pip," Hermione interrupted, "No one is going to give you clothes." The elf quieted down and Hermione turned her attention back to Remus. "You were saying?"

"Well, Hermione… the reason that no one hears about female werewolves is that there really aren't many."

"And why is that?" Hermione sat up with a wince as she braced herself using her injured arm. Remus looked down for a moment before taking a deep breath.

"Because women don't usually survive their first turn; it's the mark of an alpha female if she makes it to the first turn. It's why I'm so careful around Tonks. She wouldn't survive if I accidentally or deliberately bit her. But I'm not an Alpha male either…" Remus ran his hand through his hair again and looked up into the astonished and fast becoming frightened face of Hermione Granger.

A quill could have dropped and you'd hear it outside in the hall it the room was so silent.

"I'm going to die?" Hermione whispered.

"Enough, this isn't good for Mistress!" Snapped Pip as he pushed at Remus's leg to try and remove him from the room.

"It doesn't mean your life is forfeit, Hermione!" Said Remus, before he looked down at the elf, "she needs to know these things."

"You're making Mistress feel worse!" Pip snarled.

"Pip! Let him speak…" Hermione said in a dazed voice. The elf quieted down, though he kept staring daggers at Remus.

"I don't quite know how females manage to live through their first turn. You have to make yourself strong Hermione. You're going to be going through a lot more than a normal seventeen year old should. You need to fortify yourself for what could happen… mentally and physically."

Hermione stared at her hands for a moment, "and if I survive?"

Remus had the grace to blush, "Ah, what I know is that if a female is bitten and survives she and the male who bit her gravitate towards one another. To produce pure offspring… it's how werewolf lines like the Greybacks have thrived for so long and stayed on top of the other werewolves in the British Isles.

"No," said Hermione looking up with piercing eyes, "If I survive I'm not going to go and become Fenrir's mate. He _literally_ eats children. He still had blood all over him from whoever he last killed. He's a murderer. A beast!"

Remus looked down, "I imagine that would be hard to swallow, since he is a servant of the Dark Lord. He most likely bit you assuming that you wouldn't survive. I'm sorry, Hermione. I really am."

Hermione huffed, "You didn't cause this, Remus. A few stupid Slytherins and an overgrown arse with a blood fetish did this. I'll be damned if I let them get the best of me. Exeo bene, Remus. I die well. Right, Pip?"

Hermione turned to the elf who was looking at her with proud tears in his eyes. "Yes, Mistress."

"Where'd you hear that saying?" asked Remus with a frown.

She shrugged, "Pip taught it to me."

Remus nodded, "Alright then, but Hermione, this goes both ways. Fenrir Greyback will come for you at some point and from what I know about these things you may not entirely be able to resist."

Hermione made a face, slowly turning green before leaning over to retch off the side of the bed. Pip immediately put a bowl beneath her to catch her sick.

"That'll be the venom. Eventually it will wear off."

Hermione wiped her mouth, "I'm sure it's nerves. I've been throwing up since this whole ordeal started. Greyback coming after you has that sort of sensation on the body."

"You're taking this rather well. I'd expect you to have jumped off the Astronomy Tower by now," said Remus. Hermione grimaced.

"Don't rule it out. I've only just gotten back to civilization. Gods, everything hurts," she lay back onto the pillow.

Pip handed her a sleeping draught and a pain relief potion. "Madam Pomfrey insisted that Mistress take this." Hermione uncorked the phials and swallowed both of them.

"Well, I promise to be visiting you as much as I can. I don't know I'll be of any use but… I can try."

Hermione yawned, "I appreciate that Remus. Could you send Harry in before I drift off?"

Pip pulled the covers over her, tucking her in comfortably before Remus pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Get some rest," whispered Remus. Hermione flashed him a weak smile and watched his back as he left the room.

"I won't let them win this, Pip. I'll destroy them if I have to," she said while she stared at the beams in the ceiling.

"Nature is hard to fight Mistress, but I will help you become stronger so you can face what may come. I serve you until the end, Mistress." The elf bowed his head.

"Thank you, Pip. And I promise to never give you clothes."

The elf snorted at Hermione, though the muscles in his shoulders seemed to release.

"I will however need you to find something to clothe yourself so you have some modesty."

Pip looked startled, "and what if I appreciate a nice breeze?!"

She swallowed a laughing sob as the doors opened again and Harry came forward, his skin pale and eyes bloodshot like he'd been crying.

"Hermione," he choked out, sitting on the foot of the bed, "Remus… he—,"

"Told you everything?" Hermione supplied. Harry nodded, fighting back more tears. Untucking herself from the covers, she reached forward and wrapped her best friend in a hug.

"Harry," Hermione whispered as she blinked away the fresh tears that threatened to pour, "I'm going to fight this. I'm going to do my damnedest to not die. Either way, we're all composed of the same matter as the stars, so I'll always be here."

"What are we going to do?" asked Harry, still not looking entirely consoled at Hermione's thought process.

"I know what I'm going to do as soon as I get out of this bed," said Hermione

"Library?" Harry's lips quirked as he wiped at his face.

"Right in one," whispered Hermione.

* * *

A/N- Next week is crazy so it may take me a couple days longer to update. Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Mini Game of Thrones warning for my sweetums

* * *

I am flesh and I am bone  
Arise, ting ting, like glitter and gold  
I've got fire in my soul  
Rise up, ting ting, like glitter  
Like glitter and gold  
Like glitter

Barns Courtney

* * *

Worn books surrounded the pair, their states varying from neatly stacked to open and scattered about the table. The sound of quills scratching against parchment filled the library along with Hermione's occasional frustrated huff. Harry's eyes were growing tired from staring at book after book, chapter after chapter, all for the sake of finding anything on female werewolves. Hermione huffed and cradled her head on her hands.

"We've been at this for days now. How is there nothing on female werewolves in the flipping Hogwarts library?!" Hermione grew more panicked as each day passed. The feeling of dread mounted in her stomach no matter how much she tried to console herself. With the dread grew agitation. It was becoming easy for her to snap at her classmates when they managed to prove that yet again they were idiots. Ron especially suffered from her temper. Though the boy hadn't exactly been innocent in goading her into an argument; in fact he'd practically invited it. Asking her to help him on his homework when she already had so much on her plate made her snap at him and in turn he became indignant. They hadn't spoken since her second day back at Hogwarts.

He didn't know she could be dead after the next full moon. She didn't want to tell him, especially now that he smelled of Lavender Brown. The scent of her was a constant in her dorm room and it took three scent dispelling charms before Hermione could actually breathe. But knowing that Ron chose that witch over her bordered a bit on heart break. A silly schoolgirl crush was all it had ever been. Still, it hurt. So she did the immature thing and kept away.

Harry was the opposite. The black haired boy was her constant companion, shooing Pip away when the elf became overbearing, acting as a wall when students asked her what happened, and keeping her far away from Draco Malfoy and his two cronies.

"We'll find something, Hermione. Maybe not here, but we'll find something. There's another Hogsmeade weekend coming up soon," said Harry as he lifted his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Ha! I'll go back into Hogsmeade when I join Voldemort's side," she quipped before flipping through another book then tossing it aside with a sigh.

Harry frowned, "you shouldn't say things like that."

Hermione looked up, "sorry, I just can't help but wonder about what Remus said about female werewolves gravitating toward the one that bit them. It disturbs me greatly."

"You could always resist it?" Harry offered. Hermione shook her head to his surprise.

"I'm going to do my best but the more I think about it and then think about Remus the more scared I get," she said.

"I'm not sure I follow."

Hermione shuffled in her seat, rearranging her skirts before answering. "Remus always looks sick and Greyback was healthy. A scary blood covered healthy, but healthy nonetheless. I've got a hypothesis for that. Remus keeps himself separate from Greyback's pack though Greyback bit him. I think it makes him sick. I think in order to be healthy you need to be around the pack. I think you need to not fight the wolf."

A look of understanding dawned on Harry's face. "Oh that's depressing. D'you think Remus knows?"

"I'm not sure. His father was so anti-werewolf that Remus wouldn't have had the chance to learn about his lycanthropy. Pip said something when we were first met. 'Wizards write the books, not the wolves'. It's something to consider that werewolves kept themselves culturally and biologically secluded from wizards because of the harsh treatment they endured at the hands of wizards. I mean, plenty of indigenous groups do the same. They don't easily let outsiders in because they've been screwed over so many times."

Harry sat back in his chair, green eyes staring in wonder at the witch before him, "when did you come up with this theory?"

"Hypothesis, Harry. I'd need more evidence to support it to become a theory; testing and whatnot. The idea came to me as soon as I saw Greyback. He was robust, Harry, and he was able to change his shape at will. Not like in third year when Remus went all Moony on us."

The gong of the clock tower chimed, announcing that eight o'clock had finally come around.

"As good as it is learning to brew the Wolfsbane potion, I really dislike the time I spend with Professor Snape. He seems to take great joy in reminding me that I missed so much and that I can possibly fail. But I'm handling it. I've got maybe another week and a half of work to go through along with that potion. Did you know that I have to put my blood in it? We're at that portion of brewing. It makes it so that the potion is designed just for the consumer." Hermione began to stack her books into a pile before waving them off with her wand.

"That's disgusting," said Harry as he piled the books up, "you know, we could always have Pip do this for us. Seeing as how he is your house elf."

Hermione shuddered, "don't remind me. I promised him no clothes but at least Dobby got him into that… kilt. It's more like a checkered hanky but he seems to like it well enough."

"I'm surprised they let him into the kitchens with near nothing on. How exactly did you meet him again?" asked Harry.

Hermione knew this subject would come up at some point and while she kept it secret from the professors and other classmates, keeping it from Harry felt like the utmost betrayal.

"Can you keep a secret?" Hermione asked.

"Everyone seems intent on keeping them from me. It'd be nice to be in the know for once," Harry replied. Hermione waved her wand, reinforcing the wards around them so no one could overhear.

"There was a tower where I was portkeyed to. This ancient building made of tumbling rocks surrounded by more gorse than I ever care to see again. Pip was there. He appeared and called me by the name Nathair, saying that I had come to free him. He couldn't leave the tower until I had taken Greyback's wand which is apparently the Nathair wand. So, I made the decision to stay. Not that I would have survived with the other option."

"What's a Nathair?"

Hermione shrugged, "as much as I've been able to gather from Pip, they were a magical family bound to the line of Slytherin," Harry made a horrified face, "I know, I know. I guess that my ancestor was a concubine to Salazar Slytherin and she had an affair with a muggle and became pregnant. Slytherin banished her and Pip to that tower where I found him. I guess she used the last bit of her magic to keep her child safe and make it so only a Nathair could cross the wards."

"Blimey, Hermione. I thought that I had a rough family history," said Harry, scratching at the back of his head. The clock chimed fifteen after and Hermione stood.

"I know, but please don't tell anyone. I haven't had time to thoroughly research it and there's so little information as it is. I've got to run. I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast? Pip is meeting me at the Room of Requirement beforehand."

"What for?" asked Harry.

Hermione gave him a halfhearted smile. "He's continuing my training. You didn't think we escaped Greyback by using a rock, did you?"

Harry released a laugh, "No, not when you came into the Great Hall wearing daggers off your belt. You looked ferocious."

Hermione smiled and gave Harry a hug. "Thanks. Love you Harry."

"Love you too, Hermione." He wrapped his arms around her for a moment and squeezed, "now get down to the dungeons so the old bat doesn't get grouchier than normal."

"Alright, see you later?"

"I'll be in the common room, attempting my Transfiguration homework. See you." Harry tugged on one of Hermione's curls and she flashed him a grin before grabbing her bag and exiting the library.

The corridors of Hogwarts were quiet, students either in the library or studying, allowing Hermione to sort through her thoughts while walking. Her footfalls echoed down the halls, the noise bouncing off the stone before disappearing into tapestries along the walls.

She had to figure out what the best course of action was in order to survive. She knew she was onto something with Professor Lupin. Of course, he'd been bitten as a child; but children were more likely to make it through the first change. What made women so different? Maybe the lack of females was so that purebred werewolves weren't common. It made sense to her, a sort of population control of werewolves. Similar to a blood exchange between a vampire and his chosen; they both needed to drink from one another for the mortal to become undead.

Hermione shivered at the thought of being undead or dead in any case. She needed to find knowledge the problem was all her resources were exhausted.

BANG! A dungbomb went off at her feet, filling the room with the putrid smell of rancid shit. Hermione gagged and covered her mouth, looking upwards to where the offending object came from.

Peeves circled above, cackling madly at his latest antics. "Little Granger's been through a lot, little Granger fought. Little good it will do, little Granger was still werewolf food—,"

Hermione had her wand out in an instant. "Phasma Vitreus!" Peeves froze, his form falling to the floor, and shattering at her feet. Hermione leaned over and picked a piece of him up. "I do believe that these are your lips, Peeves. You'd do best to keep them shut."

Peeves attempted to move his mouth, a slight whine coming from the now solid and broken ghost. "If you don't keep your mouth shut, I'll exorcise you from this castle faster than you can say Gryffindor. Do you understand?" The glass made a whining noise.

"Good, and just to be sure," Hermione turned and chucked the glass down the hall, hearing it shatter on the stone floor, "you'll be back together in a few hours' time. Goodnight."

Hermione stepped over the broken poltergeist and made her way to the dungeons, once again thinking of the best way to find more resources. Finally she came to Snape's door and softly knocked.

"Enter," the Professor's voice drawled. Hermione took a deep breath and opened the door to the professor's private laboratory.

"You are late," Professor Snape said, looking up from the Wolfsbane Potion he was tending to, "I do not tolerate tardiness."

Hermione looked at him and lowered her book bag, "I was intercepted by Peeves. Somehow he got a hold of a dungbomb and thought to ruin my night with it. I took care of the matter."

Snape appraised the Gryffindor girl. He'd never say it but the bite had been good for her. Before she was a rule–following, brown–nosing, walking encyclopedia, catering to Potter's every whim and always held down by books and the 'should vs should nots'. Now she had a bit of a disobedient streak and it made her glow.

"What spell, Miss Granger?" He asked.

"Phasma Vitreus," she responded, coming to stand next to him. Snape nodded, impressed with the girls gall to use such a curse. Of course it was relatively ineffective on spirits but it would certainly get the message across.

"Interesting choice," he turned back to the potion and plucked a large phial off the shelf behind the cauldron. "If your memory is working this evening, which I hope it is, you'll have brought the dagger I requested of you."

Hermione looked at her Professor then began rummaging through her bag while trying not to roll her eyes at his attempt at an insult. She'd impressed him; the uptick in his mouth that was only a millisecond long was enough to give him away; a regular mortal wouldn't have noticed. Pleased with herself that she'd pierced the dour Professor's hide after years of his disdainful treatment, she handed him the dagger.

Snape looked at the bone handle and sharpened blade. A dagger used for killing and he was sure this one had seen its fair share of victims.

"Pip gave it to me," she said with a shrug, "said that I may need it. He's very protective."

Snape's lips curled up at the mention of the elf, "indeed, if his barely leaving your side since you've returned is any indication." The elf insisted on following her to each class and was a massive disruption in his potions lab. The last class was extremely eventful when Pip told Snape off for his snark towards Harry. Hermione ended up ordering the elf to the kitchens and Severus was grateful when peace ensued.

Hermione shrugged again and pulled a stool up next to the cauldron, "you said we had to draw the blood tonight, since the full moon was coming close?"

"Tell me Miss Granger," Snape drawled as he set the dagger down next the phial, "what is the point of adding blood to the potion?"

"It causes a reaction that is keyed specifically to the genes of the drinker which increases a favorable outcome for the drinker to have complete control of his or her wolf. William Smiley's theory states that adding the blood early strengthens the effects of the potion for the drinker. Blood can be added at any time during the brewing process but the earlier, the better."

"Always a know–it–all. Give me your palm." Snape waved his wand, levitating the phial beneath her hand before grabbing the dagger, "deep breath, Hermione."

She stared at him, inhaling and then breaking eye contact with a wince as the blade sliced through her palm. "Bloody hell, I hate that sensation."

Snape snorted, "Not many find themselves enjoying the feeling of being cut open." He watched the crimson liquid stream from the cut, down her palm, off her fingers and into the phial.

When the Dark Lord summoned Severus to discuss the possibility of Hermione actually being a descendent of the Nathair Clan, Snape kept his surprise to himself. Voldemort's court consisted of families that served the line of Salazar Slytherin for centuries, even if names evolved over time to their modern counterparts.

Finding a witch with Nathair blood was entirely unexpected. Severus still held the belief that the mudbl–girl was strong enough to break down the wards on her own. His Lord wasn't entirely sure. Some of the blood in the phial would provide the necessary information to move further.

Severus hadn't reported the discovery to Albus, simply so he could keep a wild card in his pocket. The old man was losing his game as he aged. His ability to use Legilimens decreased when he went after that damned horcrux and ended up cursed. The man's manipulations of his students and colleagues wore on the professor the same as a scouring charm applied over and over on the skin. It bled, and chapped.

He'd never admit to anyone that it wasn't just Lily's eyes that he felt a soft spot for. The Headmaster's treatment of the boy that had childhood friend's eyes was deplorable. Snape knew Petunia Dursley and all about what a terrible shrew she was.

He recognized the symptoms of neglect in the boy from his own experiences. Potter was thin when he came to school, overjoyed to have true friends for the first time. The first welcoming feast the boy attended, he'd stuffed his face, like he was starved for food. Severus hated it almost as much as he loathed James Potter.

Harry's neglect was Dumbledore's doing, and Snape abhorred that Lily's son had been treated as such. It was unforgivable and the anger that festered in Snape's soul at the Headmaster's actions grew every year.

At least the Dark Lord would to betray you to your face. Albus Dumbledore was likely to betray his own while holding a twinkling smile and sneaking the dagger around your back while he embraced you and promised that everything would be alright before stabbing you between the ribs.

Severus tired of the Headmaster's games long ago and the deepest, darkest part of him was looking forward to the end of the year with relish. The old man's scheme that he concocted when Granger returned with chew marks on her shoulder courtesy of Greyback was the last straw.

Snape's lips curled as he remembered interviewing each of his students as to their whereabouts. Of course the three newly minted Death Eaters were the culprits, but as far as anyone was concerned, they were seen sitting at the Three Broomsticks enjoying their lunch. Just another secret he kept from the Headmaster.

"I think that will be enough for now," he said, putting a stopper in the phial and healing Hermione's hand.

"Thank you, Professor." Hermione got off the stool and began unloading her book bag. Severus eyed her.

"Miss Granger, I have a lot to do to prepare for classes tomorrow. You are dismissed early. Go and make sure Mr. Potter doesn't do anything stupid."

Hermione glanced up, startled that her Professor wasn't glorying in watching her play catch up. "Are you sure, Professor?"

"Certain. It pains me to say this, but my potions chambers are always welcome for you to study in. I highly doubt your common room or the library is the best places to learn when you're surrounded by idiots."

Hermione blushed, "not all of them are idiots," she muttered.

"Time and time again, they have proven themselves to be incapable. Do not let them rub off on you. Now go, I've got far too much to deal with here."

Hermione, still blushing at the odd compliment, left the dungeons.

Peeves was slowly turning into a blob of ectoplasm on the floor and now capable of sound.

"Ickle Granger gave me a good scare," the blob said as she came near, bubbles erupting from his lips, "might have to rethink you."

"If any of those thoughts involve pranks, teasing, or discussing my condition, you'll be out of the castle before you can cackle." Hermione stepped over the blob and continued on.

If a blob could nod, Peeves would have.

Professor Snape surprised her this evening with his behavior. He was almost cordial. It made her uneasy. He was a double spy for the Order. Perhaps he knew something she didn't? Still, the offer of using his personal potions chamber to study was a gracious one. But the answer didn't lie within those chambers. Chambers…

Chambers! Hermione stopped dead in her tracks as she came to the staircases. Harry never mentioned there being a library in there, just a long cold room with a statue of Salazar Slytherin carved into the wall. But answers she was looking for might be there, if the Greybacks really served the line of Slytherin for that long. There could also be information about the Nathair family that Pip could corroborate on. Hermione practically giggled with delight.

The trick would be convincing Harry to open it for her. The basilisk was dead after all. The pros outweighed the cons in this situation; as long as nothing was cursed against muggleborns, she'd be fine.

Hermione started up the stairs, a plan forming in her mind on how to ask Harry to do this for her. He could refuse and she wouldn't fault him for that in the slightest.

* * *

The sun set by the time Fenrir decided to return to his island. The island of Ulva lay off the west coast of Scotland and to the mere muggle it seemed like any other island. Extinct volcanoes towering over moorland surrounded by basalt cliffs and dead lava flows. Truly, muggle Ulva was a lovely place. But the magical side of the island was entirely something other. Mountains filled the sky, their slopes dipping into abundant and diverse forests before giving way to heather covered moors that spilled onto the rocky beaches and sheer cliffs.

This was Greyback territory and therefore belonged to him and his pack. No wizard had set foot on his home in over a century. The last one ended up becoming a chew toy for Fenrir's father. A young Fenrir had enjoyed learning how to properly hunt a wizard during that time, tracking him through the forests and over the moors on scent alone. The chase ended when the wizard, unable to cast a spell because his wand had been removed before the hunt began, begged for his life before pulling his blood covered and bite riddled body over the cliffs into the sea below. Parts of his body were found a day later, washed up onto shore. He'd been nibbled on by the fish.

Fenrir breathed in the air and exhaled as he stood up straight, cracking his neck to the side. The young woman that filled his stomach earlier had been delectable; iron and delicate rose flavored. Now he was hungry again, but for a full meal, not just some slag that threw herself at him, unknowingly asking for death. Fenrir trekked into the forest, following a well-worn path through the brush towards home.

A large Wyche elm stood in the woods surrounded by oak, alder, chestnut, and sycamore trees. Fenrir walked beneath the branches, leafy shadows covering the ground before he came to a door in the bole of the elm. A wave of his wand and the tree elongated, roots pulling upwards from the ground forming large archways and an intricate system of rooms that descended into the earth. Fenrir opened the door and kicked off his boots before padding into the living room. Already a fire crackled and he could hear the smell of meat roasting.

"Alpha, you're back." A voice from the kitchen called, "I figured after you'd been out eating little girls you'd want something more along the lines of game. Caught the deer this morning."

Fenrir walked into the kitchen and found his Beta, Caelen MacDougal, chopping vegetables while a pot stewed over the fire. Caelen was a rough looking fellow with a gentle heart; unless he wanted to murder you. He was a great Beta, adept at keeping things in line with the pack members when Fenrir was called away on business with the Dark Lord, which happened more often than he wished.

"Good. Human flesh tastes sweet but deer cleanses the palate," said Fenrir as he pulled a lager out of the cupboard.

He walked into the lounge, over worn rugs and settled into his armchair, kicking his feet up onto the blue ottoman in front of him.

"How did destroying the mudblood go?" Caelen called from the kitchen.

"Didn't," said Fenrir as he opened the bottle, "she broke through the wards of Nathair tower and had a house elf with her. The Dark Lord was curious but of course I didn't get away unscathed. The bitch and the elf stabbed me multiple times while I got a decent bite in. Then Lestrange crucioed me to get her jollies. Bitch."

"Back up there," Caelen poked his head around the corner and stared at his Alpha, "you bit the mudblood?!"

Fenrir shrugged, "thought that our Lord would want to reconsider his options regarding her. It gave him a good month to find out any answers he needs. She'll be dead soon though."

Caelen looked slightly concerned, "you don't think she'll make it?"

Fenrir shook his head, "no, she had her heart in defending, but certainly not killing. I'm sure that the werewolf venom flowing through her blood now is enhancing whatever lurks beneath the surface. But she's not a killer. She's all innocent. Looks innocent, smells innocent. Got one hell of a determined expression though."

Caelen sighed and walked back into the kitchen.

"What?" Fenrir called, sensing that something was bothering his Beta.

If there was one thing he could count on, it was honesty from his pack. Caleb came back and stood in the doorway, head bowed slightly. "It's just… my family has served yours for hundreds of years. But Fenrir, we can't keep serving your family if you don't _continue the line_."

Fenrir chuckled, "has your mother been filling your brain with romantic notions again?

Caelen growled at him, "No, I'm being realistic. You need to find a mate. It's not some pie in the sky wishy washy fairy tale. Sure, you don't know until they've survived the first turn."

Fenrir shook his head, "she won't survive. She doesn't have it in her to be a true Wolf. She doesn't have it in her to draw blood simply for the pleasure of it."

"But, if she does?"

Fenrir thought about it for a moment, sipping from the bottle with his eyes narrowed on the ottoman in front of him. Dolohov had been right, she was something. Powerful but small, pissed off eyes of golden brown, hair that escaped from her braids like it had a mind of its own. It probably did. She was pretty, but the last time he'd bitten a woman after stalking her for weeks and deciding that she'd be the right one turned out poorly. The witch proved to be weak; she couldn't kill and wouldn't be able to defend her pack as a result. She'd died trying to shift back from wolf to human, stuck in a limbo that neither form could sustain.

The chances of the mudblood making it were slim; still… she was so small. Fenrir liked small. Something he could wrap his arms around and contain. She would be fun to contain, but a nuisance as well. He knew she was a swot. The Malfoy pup spoke of it all the time and if Fenrir didn't have a strong sense of smell he would say that the pureblood was actually in love with the girl. He wasn't though. His hatred at her ability to outdo him ran deep, seeping from his pores and into the air.

Fenrir didn't hate her and wouldn't mourn her death as a chance lost; still, there was always a lingering hope. He snorted and shook his head.

"Then I'll enjoy her when I damn well feel like it," Fenrir took a long draw from his beer, "this discussion is over."

Caelen sighed again, "alright, but if she doesn't make it you have to find another female. It's time Fenrir."

"Fuck off, Beta." Fenrir growled. Caelen laughed at his Alpha's crude behavior and walked away into the kitchen whistling; knowing that the seed had been planted.

* * *

When Hermione arrived at the common room, Harry, Ginny, Ron and Lavender were playing Exploding Snap and drinking butterbeer. She looked at the quartet and smiled, though she was on the outs with Ron, at least he seemed happy. She walked over to the group and dropped her bag onto the floor before huddling next to Ginny.

"Snape let you out early?" the red haired witch asked.

"Yes… he said he had too much to do to bother with me. He was almost… _pleasant._ " Hermione reached for an unopened butterbeer and popped the lid off. "I'll probably head up to my dorm to study."

"You're always studying, Hermione," Lavender said as she flicked her hair behind her shoulders causing her wretched perfume to waft into Hermione's nose, "Live a little. Though you, Won Won, should study more."

Harry and Hermione became silent for a moment, exchanging glances. Ginny looked between the two, confused before looking back at Lavender who was now murmuring into Ron's ear. Ron blushed and nodded.

"Lavender is going to help me with some homework… we're just going to head to the library." He stood up, pulling Lavender with him before they left the common room.

"Funny, they didn't seem to bring any study supplies with them," said Harry as the portrait hole closed behind the already giggling pair.

"I really don't want her to be my sister in law. She's worse than Fleur," muttered Ginny before she looked down at the cards in her hands and set them on the coffee table. "I think I've lost my mojo for the night guys. I'll see you in the morning."

Hermione and Harry bid Ginny a goodnight and then enjoyed the silence that was only broken by the crackling fire.

"Harry, I had a thought earlier and I wanted to run it by you," Hermione said as she moved onto the couch.

"Alright, run it by me," he replied as he began to pick up the game and stack the empty bottles before taking a swig of his drink.

Hermione stared at Harry for a moment, thinking of the best way to approach this request. Blunt honesty seemed to be the best route as she wasn't sure if she had time left. "Do you think that there is a library in the Chamber of Secrets."

Harry started coughing as butterbeer sprayed out his nose. It took a few moments for him to get enough air but the surprise on his face remained. "You want to go down there?!"

Hermione looked ashamed, "well… yes. It's not as if I can get down there on my own. My parseltongue isn't exactly up to par." She hissed for emphasis and Harry began coughing again between fits of laughter.

"What?! Did I say something? What did I say?" She asked, leaning forward off the couch.

Finally Harry gathered a deep breath but continued laughing as he explained, "P–pe–penis! You said penis." Then he fell backwards clutching his stomach when Hermione's face turned scarlet.

"Shut up, Harry. It's just a word!" She hit him with a pillow.

Finally he regained control of his laughter and looked at Hermione, "as funny as your attempt at parseltongue is, and I will have that forever etched into my memory; the Chamber isn't exactly welcoming to a muggleborn."

"But the snake is dead, Harry," she whispered, "It could be fine. And if I really do have Nathair blood somewhere then maybe any wards that were placed down there would recognize it. We could take Pip with us. He may be able to help."

Harry gazed into the fire and sighed. "Let me sleep on it? Last time I was down there I met up with a piece of Voldemort and I'd rather not relive that experience."

Hermione nodded, "Thanks for thinking about it. If you do decide to do that, I promise we'll be very careful." She stood up.

"Goodnight, Harry."

"G'night, Hermione."

She knew he'd be tossing and turning that evening, "if you need me, use the coin with the protean charm on it."

Harry nodded and Hermione left him there, intent to try and seek out her own rest. It was only as she was drifting off that she realized Professor Snape called her 'Hermione'.


	5. Chapter 5

Game of Thrones style up in here. You've been warned.

* * *

Sometimes ideas are harder to kill than snakes

Sometimes, I don't know all the answers.

Sometimes an extremely dangerous practice.

Sometimes you can't be the conscience of the whole world.

-Wax Tailor, Sometimes, Phonovisions

* * *

Smack! The staff slammed into Hermione's face, creating a hairline fracture in her mandible.

"Fucking hell, Pip!" She screamed, her sword clattering to the stone floor of the Room of Requirement. She bowed under the pain, her hand clutching at her jaw as a low rumbling growl formed in the base of her throat before completely erupting. Pip swung at her again, the wooden staff making a whirring noise as it came through the air.

"Mistress must embrace herself fully!" said Pip as the staff collided with Hermione's shoulder, "Mistress must stomach the hunt!"

Practically roaring with rage, Hermione leapt off the ground and went for the elf, grabbing the staff and smashing it against the wall as the door behind her clicked open and Harry's scent wafted through the air. Hermione didn't care that she had an audience; she was ready to kill her elf.

Pip danced out of the way, singing about a cow that an owner couldn't catch. Claws burst from Hermione's fingers, leaving ten trails of blood on the stone floor as she scrambled towards the elf, barely catching him by the ankle before dragging him beneath her. "I'm going to eat you, Pip!" she threatened, drawing blood from the flesh of his ankle as he laughed maniacally beneath her.

"That's it, Mistress! Embrace the Wolf!" He said, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous fire.

"Mione, I think you'd regret eating your elf," Harry chimed in, observing the scene of the near insane witch and most definitely insane elf. The changes in his best friend, while somewhat disturbing, were also fascinating. The Hermione Granger that brewed Polyjuice, kept Rita Skeeter in a jar, let a Ministry official be raped by centaurs came out to play more and more as she progressed towards the full moon.

Both combatants paused and looked at Harry then at one another.

"Good job, Mistress. Pip is proud you attacked through the pain. Though next time go for the bite right away. You want to rip your opponent to shreds before they can take you out," Pip said as he crawled from beneath Hermione and patted her shoulder. Hermione huffed and sat back to rub her jaw, noting that the bone had begun to knit back together. Werewolf abilities were amazing.

"So…," Harry began, shoving his hands into his pockets, "I thought about your request. I think we can go down there… but…"

"… but?" Hermione looked at Harry with her face tilted and brows raised.

"I think we ought to tell Ginny. She's mentioned to me a few times on how she'd like some closure from the whole thing from her first year. It might be good for her," said Harry.

"We'd have to tell her why though… this is something I'd rather keep secret," said Hermione.

Pip walked up to Harry and poked him in the leg, "Master Potter hasn't been telling Mistress' secret, has he?"

Harry blinked at the elf and shook his head, "I haven't told anyone. But Gin… she—,"

"–proved that once again she's more observant than the rest of Hogwarts, especially her brother, and told you what she thought she knew?" Hermione finished.

Harry nodded, "yeah, she's a smart one."

"Pip does like the Mistress Weasley. Her soul matches her hair," the elf said as he began picking up the room and stowing away the weapons used by him and Hermione.

Hermione slowly stood, rolling her shoulders and cracking her neck before responding to Harry, "we'd have to plan a lot more. Sneaking three people and an elf into Myrtle's bathroom won't be easy, even with an invisibility cloak. And there's only two more nights until the full moon at this point."

Harry sighed and nodded, "all the more reason we get down there."

"Well, ask Ginny when you have a moment today," Hermione said only to be interrupted by her stomach growling, "we haven't missed breakfast, have we?"

Harry shook his head, "no, starts in fifteen minutes. Enough time to walk down there."

"Pip will be needed in the kitchens," said the elf before he disappeared. Hermione flashed a weak smile at Harry before covering any bruising on her person with a glamour.

Harry held his arm out, "my Lady?"

Hermione took his elbow, "lead on, my Lord."

* * *

Hermione always spent her afternoon free period in the library, tucked away into a corner that was hidden from the hustle and bustle of the other students. She enjoyed the complete and utter privacy.

Opting for a pen to complete the final draft of her essay, Hermione scribbled the words down for the third time, hoping she hadn't missed anything that Professor Flitwick deemed important. At least this way there wouldn't be any magical residue from cleaning up splotches of ink on the parchment.

She was so absorbed in the blood cleansing charms that she barely felt the silencing wards fall around her small area. The smell of old polyjuice wafted into her nose, making her groan as she slammed her pen down and gripped her wand. Whipping around in her chair, Hermione pointed her wand at Draco Malfoy.

The prat stood there, hair neatly combed, robes pressed and a smug look on his face. He walked towards the table and sat down in a chair next to her.

"The fuck you want, Malfoy?" Hermione growled, wondering if the boy had a death wish.

"Language, Granger. If I didn't know any better I'd say you were hanging around Weaselbee too much. But he's been shagging Brown like she's going to disappear so I doubt you learned that from the penniless sod. I was just seeing how the resident know–it–all mudblood is coming along with the last essay she may ever write," he drawled.

Hermione's lip curled, "Malfoy you have about thirty seconds to leave my presence before I rip your throat out through your anal cavity."

"Learning it from the elf then?"

"Go away." Hermione growled, trying to go back to her essay.

"What contraption are you writing with? This is a wizarding school, Granger. Not some secondary school in the muggle world." Malfoy poked at the pen, "it's like you have no class. Embrace wizarding culture, Granger. Maybe it will make the best of us overlook your filthy blood."

Hermione lifted the pen and slammed it into Malfoy's hand, making him scream bloody murder as she twisted deeper until the point of the pen hit the wood of the table. "Listen you little fucker," she growled, "you can sit here and gloat all fucking day, but I'm telling you this now. If I survive this transition, you'll never rest easy again. I'll always be there, watching you get married, watching your pretty little inbred wife birth an heir for you. Someday I may take the opportunity to take a leaf from Greyback's book, and crawl into the window of your child's room. Or your room. Maybe I'll destroy the entire Malfoy line. One bite is all it takes. I can let the blood lust rule. Maybe I'll consume your flesh. Or I'll just make you a half breed."

Hermione's face was pressed in towards Draco's, his grey eyes alight with alarm, as she whispered "I've already done things, Malfoy. Little things that would make your venture in destroying me seem like a walk in a park. You, or your cronies come near me again, and I'll fucking kill you. Do you understand?"

She pulled the pen free, watching as a spray of blood landed across her parchment, "Damn it," she muttered, applying a cleaning spell to get rid of the deep red color. Draco was spluttering his indignation and sneaking in the word's 'my father will hear about this' while he began healing his hand and backing away from Hermione. She sneered at his old phrase and turned to him before jumping out of her chair and shoving him into the wall.

Her fingers curled around his pale throat, bruising his flesh, "see what Lycanthropy does to females, Draco? Even if I die, I'll die stronger than you'll ever be. I expect you to tell your father. But he can't do shit about it. Public opinion has denounced him as Dark, and he displeased your Lord by being caught and sent to Azkaban by a bunch of _school children_. He has no recourse, no assets other than money; and money will only get you so far in life."

Hermione released the choking boy and watched as he sunk to the ground. She kicked him once in the balls then gathered her stuff up before walking out the library to her last class of the day, the faint whiff of urine from Malfoy wetting himself lingering in her reading nook

* * *

Harry knew something had happened when he saw Hermione stomp into Transfiguration. Her eyes were flashing with irritation, and if the light hit her iris's just right a blue glow emanated from the depths. It was a direct contrast to her mouth that was quirked up into an odd smile.

"Hermione!" Harry whispered, gesturing to the seat next to him, "sit here."

Hermione sat down next to Harry as Pip popped into the classroom and took his position next to their table, all three of them facing towards the board. Hermione's internal dialogue was running amok in her head. On one hand, she felt vindicated by scaring the literal piss out of the boy, and on the other she was worried he would go the Headmaster immediately. The one thing she didn't feel was guilt but an overwhelming sense of justice.

"What happened? You look like you've discovered a cure for cancer and some giant company is trying to overcharge for the treatment," whispered Harry.

"I just royally fucked Draco Malfoy over. Don't know if he'll be able to sire children or not. He may not even want to after what I told him I'd do if I survived," Hermione whispered back as she took her quills and parchment from Pip and set them in front of her. The elf pulled the blood covered pen from her bag and looked at Hermione with proud eyes.

"Did Mistress stab the Malfoy?" he asked in a low tone as Professor McGonagall swept down the room and towards the front. Hermione flashed a smile at the elf before facing forward. Harry clapped her on the back then faced forward as well.

"Good job, Hermione. He had it coming," said Harry as he dipped his quill in his inkwell and began taking down the notes that appeared on the blackboard behind Professor McGonagall.

After McGonagall assigned the homework and sat down the grade essays, Harry leaned over to Hermione. "Ginny's in; she's eager to move past her memories of Riddle."

Hermione nodded, "alright then. We'll go after curfew. We'll need the cloak and the map. I really don't fancy any more detention. And we need to keep Myrtle silent."

"Pip can keep Myrtle silent… who is Myrtle?" asked Pip, popping up between Hermione and Harry to peer at their homework.

"She's a ghost that haunts the girl's lavatory on the first floor. She was killed by a basilisk when Tom Riddle set it free on the muggleborns of the school. It was the monster in the chamber that Slytherin created," said Harry, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

"She'll talk your ear off if she likes you," said Hermione, "even has a thing for Harry. Wonder how that would work."

Harry looked at Hermione in disgust, "seriously? You of all people are asking that? You feeling alright?" He put his hand on her forehead.

"It's an honest question. The ghosts are capable of emotion but what about physical gratification? They need their food rancid in order to even taste something. But what about if they were to fall for a human?"

"I'm pretty sure we went over incubi and succubi last year."

"But those are demons, Harry. Not some poor girl that was murdered by a pet snake."

"This conversation is getting too weird," Harry muttered before turning away back to his homework, "let's focus on reality here."

"It was just an academic interest," Hermione huffed before she went back to her work.

Pip shook his head between the two, "Pip will never understand modern wizards and witches." Then he disappeared from between them.

"Where's he off to?" Harry asked.

"Kitchens, most likely. He enjoys meal preparations; said it was like making feasts for Clan Nathair and their kin." Hermione kept scribbling.

"Oh," said Harry.

The rest of the day passed without incident, though Pansy Parkinson was wailing at dinner that someone had attacked Drakey–poo and he was going to be in the hospital all evening.

"Sad day for Slytherin," muttered Ginny as she watched the grim faces at the table while spreading butter on her roll.

"Wonder who did it?" asked Neville as he reached for his pumpkin juice, but instead ended up spilling it all over the table. A quick wave of his wand and the juice was back in the goblet.

"We ought to give them a reward for putting Malfoy in the hospital," muttered Ron. Hermione just raised her brow while Harry nudged her ankle from underneath the table.

"You'll never guess what happened!" Lavender Brown practically shrieked as she and Pavarti slid in to the seat next to Ron.

"Someone stabbed Draco in the hand before nearly suffocating him and kicking him in the balls!" Pavarti said. Harry started laughing hard enough that he fell out of his chair. The Gryffindors sitting nearby all stared at Harry as he clutched his stomach.

"Harry!" Hermione jokingly admonished, "while he isn't the best person in the world, perhaps getting kicked in the balls is a really bad thing. What if it injures his ability to have children?"

Harry laughed even harder, tears streaming down his face. He knew that Hermione injured the ferret but to the extent she had gone to was brilliant. "Whoever… did… that… needs an… award."

"He won't tell. He said he didn't get a good look at the person," said Lavender, making Hermione breathe a quiet sigh of relief.

"Bloody well buy them all of Honeydukes if I could," said Ron as he ran his hand up Lavender's leg. The blonde witch giggled and nipped at her boyfriend's ear. Hermione felt her stomach churn.

"Lay off of each other, will you! Some of us are trying to eat!" snapped Ginny.

"What's got your wand in a knot?" Ron asked as he kissed Lavender's neck and glared at his sister.

"You two are at it all the time. It's disgusting. Get a class room. I don't need to see this while I'm eating." Ginny growled as she got up and stomped off from the table.

Harry stopped laughing and got up to follow after Ginny. Hermione watched them go and then looked back at Ron. "It is rather disturbing at times, Ron. If you could maybe show a bit more decorum?" she gently suggested.

Lavender sneered at her, "just because you're still carrying your v-card doesn't mean the rest of us can't have fun."

Hermione stared at the witch, wishing with all her might she could tell Lavender how foul her perfume smelled, how despite the many times she showered the smell of Ron's come wouldn't rinse off her, how stupid she was for believing in Divination, how tacky her whorish outfits were. How her fucking rabbit was dead because rodents don't live that fucking long. Most importantly, how Ron would eventually leave her for someone else because he was simply having fun with his youth.

But then Hermione glanced at Ron and saw the nervousness creased onto his forehead at being stuck between the two seething witches.

"You know what, Lavender. You're right. Go on; screw Ron on the dining table here. Might be the best action that Filch and Snape will see all year. Ronald, wear a condom. Don't want to get warts on your cock." Hermione stood up, grabbed her book bag and walked from the table. Eyes stared after her as she pushed open the doors to the hall and left, letting them slam shut behind her.

Harry was holding a crying Ginny, lips buried in her flaming hair. "They're all idiots, Gin. All of them," he murmured.

Ginny sniffed then looked at Hermione as she stormed towards them. "Why didn't he date you? He's such an idiot. Things could have been a lot better. Mum wouldn't be as horrified. She adores you."

"He didn't date me because he's burying his feelings in Brown's cunt. And honestly, I'm beyond caring at this point. He's made his choice. I've got more important things to worry about." Hermione said as she squeezed Ginny's shoulder, "you alright?"

Ginny nodded, "I'm worried about tonight. I keep telling myself that it will be good for me. But what if all I see down there is _him_? Gods, Hermione, he was so persuasive. He wrapped around me like shattered silk, beautiful until the rot set in."

Hermione looked Ginny in the eyes, "you're strong Ginny. He would have consumed the life of a weaker person far sooner than you. It will be good if you face this. It will prepare you for the battle to come." Hermione wasn't sure when she started sounding like Pip, but the words seemed to steel Ginny's resolve.

The redhead sat straight in Harry's arms, kissed his cheek then nodded at Hermione. "You're right. Let's go and invade Salazar Slytherin's space and find out what we can to help you," Ginny wrapped her arms around Hermione, "friends stick together."

* * *

The draft of the corridors leading from Gryffindor Tower to the first floor lavatory chilled the three Gryffindor's to the bone, though the war elf that walked between them seemed to be impervious to the cold.

"You'd think that they would light some fires. Sure, it's nearly spring but Merlin, it's freezing in here!" Ginny whined as they crept towards the bathroom.

"I'm sure the Chamber will be a lot worse," said Harry as he reached forward and opened the door, "ladies first."

Hermione and Ginny ducked out from the cloak and went inside, followed by Harry, then Pip. Moaning Myrtle's toilet was empty, but that didn't stop Pip from snapping his fingers, making the pipes clank and groan. "The ghost won't be able to get in here to disturb the Mistress and her friends."

"Thanks, Pip," said Hermione before she turned to Harry, "so, which tap is it?"

Ginny pointed to the sink and Harry walked over to examine the small snake engraved into the tap. Hermione knelt next to Harry and peered at the glimmering serpent. "What's the word?"

"Osssscailllith," Harry hissed at the snake. Immediately the tap opened, revealing the long pipe that went into the bowels of the castle.

"Pip will go first," the elf said, "then come back to Mistress and her friends if it's safe." The elf disappeared down the pipe. A moment later he was appeared in front of the trio, "it is safe. The snake is decaying and smells foul, but it is safe."

He took hold of Hermione's hand while she gripped Harry's and Harry held Ginny's. The feeling of the elf moving them from one place to the next was very much like apparition, sucking the group into the nauseating void before reappearing in a long dark chamber lined with granite statues of snakes that led up to the gaping maw of Salazar Slytherin. Hermione frowned at the empty, soulless feeling that seemed to pervade the air.

"I hate this place," Ginny said with a quiver in her voice. Harry gave her a reassuring squeeze and gently kissed her forehead.

"You've got this, Gin," he said, his smile half–cocked.

"It could use some sunlight," muttered Hermione as she lit her wand and strode forward to the stinking corpse of the basilisk, "oh, God!" Hermione shuffled back, throwing her sleeve over her nose, "that's awful."

"Pip told Mistress," the elf said as he skirted the once gleaming scales and walked towards the mouth of Slytherin.

Ginny came forward with Harry splashing behind her through the water, "I'm just glad that it's dead! No offense against snakes as animals, but this one was horrible." Ginny kicked the head of it, her foot going through the thin skin with a squelch. She shrieked and backed away, kicking off the brown goo that nearly covered her trainer.

"Why'd you do that?" Harry asked, casting a scourgify on Ginny's foot.

"That's about as damn close to revenge as I've gotten," said Ginny.

"Ah," said Harry.

"Not sure who won there," muttered Hermione before she lifted her wand to look around the chamber, "this place is huge. We'd better get started searching."

She and Pip moved forward to the left of Slytherin's face. Culverts opened at the base of the brick wall, leading to a dead end. Hermione walked, her feet splashing in the thin layer of water that covered the path.

"There's nothing here!" Hermione said throwing her hands up when she reached the wall and turned to find Pip, Harry, and Ginny looking at her.

"Mistress must think like a Slytherin," said Pip. Hermione turned away and looked at the wall and began pacing while muttering under her breath. The chill took over the other three as they watched their friend walk back and forth, oblivious to the time passing.

"Salazar Slytherin was secretive. Preferred ambition and sacrifice to achieve ends, Pip?" Hermione asked, "Do you have a blade on you."

Pip produced a small dagger that glinted in the weak wand light and offered it to Hermione with a bow, "Yes, Mistress."

"Hermione, what are—," Harry began as Hermione suddenly sliced into her palm and smeared the pooling blood into the wall in front of her. The bricks began grating against one another, stone moving up through the floor, pushing the water out of the way.

"Blood magic," Ginny whispered in awe, "how'd it recognize you though, Hermione?"

As an iron door adorned with two snakes pushed up through the water, Hermione turned to Ginny, "I thought Harry would have told you the whole story." Ginny shook her head.

"Clearly he didn't," she shot a look at Harry who shrugged making her role her eyes.

"It's up to Hermione to decide who to tell," he said before trudging through the water to open the door. The snakes hissed as Harry began whispering in Parseltongue to them before slithering away from the hinge and up the walls.

"That was far too easy," said Hermione, her attention back on the door, pulling her wand out and checking for wards or curses.

Ginny huffed, "Waiting for some enlightenment here!"

The door blast open, knocking the four backwards and into the frigid water. They came up spluttering, wiping lake water from their eyes as an oily voice filled the room, speaking in Scots. Pip's ears immediately perked up as his eyes looked for something none of them could see.

"Fa'ilte Nathair. Dom chaill aon," the voice said before the door fully opened to reveal a large room filled to the brim with books and comfortable looking chairs. Then everything became silent with the exception of trickling water.

"What. The. Hell?" asked Ginny wide as she looked at the open door and began to scoot backwards, water sloshing around her.

"Lord Slytherin has recognized the blood of Mistress," Pip stood up and began to help Hermione.

"He said Nathair. Hermione, why did he say Nathair?" Ginny looked at the other three through the dim light and saw them share a glance.

Hermione sighed and began wading through the water to get inside as Pip dogged her footsteps, "because I didn't just… find Pip in the woods. I went through the wards of this seemingly abandoned tower that was in the middle of nowhere."

"Mistress was able to free Pip from the tower because Mistress has Nathair blood." Pip looked at Hermione with wide, adoring eyes. Hermione's lips quirked at the candor of the elf.

Ginny paused, "hold on… so you're actually descended from a line that disappeared around the Founder's era? That's…"

"Random?" Harry offered, casting a drying charm on his clothes.

"Yes, random. So random that I wonder why we aren't all insane yet. Why is it always this group? Grab the Sorcerer's Stone from You–Know–Who, take on a basilisk, run from a werewolf– which I really hope we never have to do but that seems more and more likely, no offense Hermione," Ginny took a breath before continuing, "face off Death Eaters? Why can't we have a relaxing holiday in Spain? I hear Barcelona is nice."

"Well, we won't know if you guys will ever have to run from me or not if we don't find anything decent in here," Hermione said, waving her wand to check for curses before she stepped through the door.

"The full moon is going to be happening soon, but you'll be back to normal in a few days, right?" Ginny asked. Harry pulled his glasses off and began cleaning them with the hem of his shirt in an effort to avoid the conversation.

Hermione looked back at Ginny, "I don't know, Gin." The thought was terrifying. She didn't want to leave her friends, or her family. What would happen after death? Sure, she knew that the atoms that made up her body were the same as the atoms that made up the stars, and in a sense, she was stardust. Not knowing exactly what the process of journeying post mortem sent shivers down her spine and made her stay awake at night. If there was one thing Hermione hated, it was not knowing the answer.

Running about in a panic wouldn't help her either. She needed to be calculating and in control of the situation. As always.

Ginny strode up to Hermione, her eyes bright with worry, "what do you mean 'you don't know'? Remus always feels better a few days after the full moon." The pale look on Hermione's face, the muscle twitch beneath her left eye, made Ginny worry far more than she'd been. Something was wrong and she wanted to know. Now.

Harry placed a hand on Ginny's back, "why don't we go inside the room and talk about this? I don't like it out here." Harry ushered the girls into the room with Pip bringing up the rear.

A fire sprung up in the stone hearth as they crossed the threshold. Scrolls, books, and parchment lined the walls, while roughhewn chairs made of wood sat in the middle next to a small table.

"I kind of expected something more… grand," said Harry. After dealing with the perfect image that Tom Riddle put on when he was draining Ginny of her life force, he'd expect marble and velvet. Not worn shelves and old tomes.

"It's grand enough, care to enlighten me on what is really going on Hermione?" Ginny put her hands on her hips, "I want the whole story. Not some half-truth."

Hermione sat on one of the chairs, a headache beginning to form. "Fine. But you can't tell anyone."

"I swear on my magic," said Ginny. Hermione rubbed her head and began the story. By the time she was finished, Ginny was crying uncontrollably while Harry rubbed her back to reassure her.

"You can't win in this Hermione! Either you die or Greyback comes after you! What about You–Know–Who? What is he going to do if you survive?" cried Ginny, unable to stem the flow of tears from her eyes.

"I don't know. I wish I did but that's why we're down here." Hermione stood and starting to peruse the bookshelves.

"How can you be so calm?!" Ginny asked, wringing her hands, thinking that Hermione had lost her mind somewhere along the way. If it were Ginny, she'd be cursing everyone in sight.

"Because she got a little wolfy on Malfoy earlier," said Harry.

"You're the one that put him in the hospital wing?" Ginny sniffed and looked at Hermione with awe. Hermione pulled a book from the shelf and began to pick over the words.

"He's had it coming for a while now," Hermione replied, a wicked smile forming on her lips as she recalled the way Malfoy's hand squelched when the pen went through. Hermione coughed when she saw Ginny and Harry staring at her, then turned to Pip.

"Pip, I may need help with the translations on this. I think this is a potions manuscript but it's written in Norse." Hermione set the book aside as the elf snapped his fingers, making parchment, quills, and ink appear on the table. Hermione started pulling whatever relevant looking books there were off the shelves, levitating them to the table before going back to peruse for more.

Pip stood on one of the chairs and flipped through the pages, making notes on parchment in a scrawl as Ginny did her best to shake off her worries and start helping Harry on the other end of the room.

Hours later and they were had no more information than when they first started. Salazar Slytherin had books covering potions, prophecies, wizarding literature, transfigurations, dark spells, light spells, torture methods, cooking recipes, and other sorts of subjects. The one thing he didn't have were books on werewolves.

"This is unbelievable," growled Hermione as she closed the cover of yet another dead end. The dreaded fear was coming through, bubbling from the pit of her stomach and into her lungs, making the two organs strain for air.

Harry rubbed his eyes, Ginny was using the table as a pillow emitting soft snores, and Pip was scribbling away but his translations weren't helping them any further.

"I think we should call it. There's nothing here except Dark texts," Harry said reluctantly.

Hermione sighed, "I was hoping there would be. Not even a word on the Nathair." She looked around the room, wishing she didn't have to be there. Wishing that she wasn't infected with lycanthropy, wishing that Malfoy had never sent her to Nathair Tower and that Greyback never existed. Tears started to form in the corner of her eyes and soon spilled down her face. "This isn't fair. This really isn't fair!" She stomped her foot and began gasping for air as tears came to the surface and fell down her cheeks and onto the twelve hundred year old manuscript in her hands.

The sound woke Ginny up, making her glance at her friend before standing and shoving the chair into its place at the table.

"Hermione, no…" whimpered Ginny before she came and wrapped her arms around her friend's shaking form. Harry followed suit and soon the three Gryffindors were all holding one another in an attempt to find comfort. Pip sat by, awkwardly staring at the group, while the quill hung from his fingers. Gradually Hermione's tears died down and the unflappable Hermione surfaced again.

Hermione wiped at her nose, "let's get out of here. We'll be dead on our feet in the morning."

Harry gathered up the notes that Pip had taken and stuffed them into a bag conjured by Hermione before taking both girls' hands. Hermione took Pip's and the elf apparated the group back to the bathroom where Myrtle's toilet was overflowing.

The small library of Salazar Slytherin resealed itself, and then slowly sunk back into the water as if it never existed.

* * *

The Shrieking Shack still reeked of Lupin, though it'd been years since the prodigal son set foot into the dwelling. Fenrir stood off in the trees, some distance away, observing the place that would soon try to hold one Hermione Granger. Dumbledore was foolish to think that this building was still safe with a she wolf attempting her first turn.

Lifting his nose to the air, he inhaled. The lemon filled scent of wards floated through the light breeze. Enough to keep a Death Eater out, but certainly not enough to keep Granger in if she managed the transition; Fenrir grinned at the thought of Dumbledore trying to keep a female werewolf in check.

The fact that she'd been consuming Wolfsbane rankled Fenrir. Another attempt from the _proper wizarding_ society to control something they didn't understand. He wasn't sure of the affects it would have on her but he planned to stick around and find out. Pulling out his new wand, he waved it through the air, dispelling his scent so Granger wouldn't pick up on it. The last thing he needed was for her to know that he was here. He wasn't sure how she would react but it probably wouldn't be in his favor.

Caelen's now incessant nagging reminded him that if she survived, she'd be of a lot more interest to him than she already was. He'd enjoy bending the witch to his will, not that he laid awake at night thinking about her and what he would do. She was too innocent, too kind, and too pure. He thought of her brown eyes glaring at him and snorted. She'd be dead by morning.

The sound of the door opening from the basement of the shack caught his attention and he peered through the shadows. He could see movement between the slats covering the windows, and the sweet smell of a fearful Hermione Granger reached his nose.

Hermione paced back and forth, doing her best to cover her exposed chest while wiping the tears from her eyes, the floorboards creaking with each step. She didn't have long before the moon would be upon her; a minute at the most. She placed her wand in her arm holster, thankful to have it nearby instead of in the clothes neatly folded in the corner. Ginny and Pip had charmed the holster as a gift. It would expand and contract based on the size of Hermione's arm and only she could remove the wand. It was a nice bit of magic but it still didn't steady her nerves.

"Get a grip, Granger. Pips trained you take on any battle. You can do this. You have to," she looked at a boarded up window and blinked the tears from her eyes, "though it's deplorable that I could die out here and only a handful of people would know the reason why." Hermione shuddered and continued her pacing.

She clenched her fists when her stomach began to roil as the moon rose on the horizon. Her legs suddenly gave out underneath her and she fell to the floor, scrambling for some sort of purchase. Instead, long dark claws burst forth from her nail beds like small daggers stabbing her in the fingers. Hermione screeched as rivulets of blood dripped from her fingers onto the wood.

When her bones began breaking and reforming Hermione's screeches turned to pain filled sobs and screamed. All the while felt like she'd sprinted through an entire marathon. Her vision swam, her stomach churned and she couldn't stop screaming. All the while in her mind she kept thinking that this was it, this was how she would die.

Then silver and grey fur burst through her hair follicles like tiny needle points. As the bones in her face began to break and reform the screams became howls. Suddenly she was silent, staring at the large paws where her hands used to be in awe. A tickling feeling along her skin became more of an itch as it progressed from behind her neck and down to the tips of her claws. Hermione lifted the paw and tried to chew the sensation away, hoping that a nibble would bring some relief. It just made the sensation worse and a frustrated Hermione began nipping and tugging on her skin.

Fear invaded her senses again and Hermione ripped at her limbs, snarling at the sensation of everything changing while she backed up into a corner; claws scratching her now fur covered body and terror in her light blue eyes.

Suddenly, it stopped and Hermione lay on the floor, panting as the small puncture wounds she'd made on herself began to heal. She knew who she was, why she was there, how she got to the position of laying on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, and why the world seemed so different.

Everything came into sharp focus as she sat up, taking the distinct change in sights, sounds, and smells all around her. A flutter of something 'other' crept through her body, wrapping her in a warm embrace and whispering in her ear about how she was so good for bonding with the wolf that was now part of her soul. Hermione closed her eyes, giving in to the feelings that those whispers brought.

She wanted to kill, to rip and tear something apart, to feel the blood of the prey flow through her fangs. But the magic held her there; Dumbledore's spell casting. She could smell the lemon drops all around her, enclosing her in this cage. She shouldn't be caged. Nothing should. Hermione leapt at the window, snarling as she began her attempts to tear down the boards.

The wards threw her back onto the ground, a minor stinging sensation like a slap on the hand. Hermione growled; had Remus gone through that too? But Hermione knew herself and Remus didn't when he was Mooney. She knew who she was, where she was and why she was. She was in complete control and all she wanted was to get through that window and run wild; to let her wolf run wild.

Her wand was still attached to the holster on her… foreleg? It would be enough to conduct magic through. Pacing in front of the window, feeling for any break in the wards; but Professor Dumbledore was a thorough man.

Hermione sat back on her haunches, ears picking up every sound through the darkness, and thought about her best course of action. The longer she stayed in here and denied the restless wolf inside her, the more likely she would be to go mad. She could feel the itch building in the back of her head, whispering that she'd never make it if she wasn't free. Hermione had to make it… she had to.

Closing her eyes, tendrils of magic left Hermione, flitting along each ward, meshing within Dumbledore's own protective weavings. Her breath coming in pants, she focused on ripping at those weavings with her own magic so a small hole formed just around the window. Her eyes flicked open and she began to attack the boards again, her claws and fangs ripping through the wood like butter. Finally a hole formed with moonlight shining through the opening.

Hermione pushed herself through, splintered wood catching on her fur and making her land awkwardly in a slump. She huffed and looked back at the Shrieking Shack. Dumbledore made the wards far too easy to break through and Hermione's suspicion rose. Turning to face the Forbidden Forest, Hermione sniffed the air and stood. She could smell everything now. The scents that wafted up from Hogsmeade, the homeless encampment nearby, the deer in the forest, the centaurs that kept their distance from Hogwarts; it all invaded her nostrils. Then there were the sounds; laughter from over a mile away, students finishing up their studies for the evening at Hogwarts, Madam Rosmerta berating some drunk outside the Three Broomsticks.

Hermione was in awe as she trotted away from any forms of civilization. Then her trot became a run as a giddy sort of feeling took over. The ground flew beneath her as she kicked up clods of dirt in her wake. Tongue hanging loose from her mouth, Hermione ran up past Buckbeak's cave, feeling the power of something other than her magic for the first time in years.

The moon cast shadows of trees on the forest floor and the occasional fleeing animal. The power of the fear they held of her was addicting, the strength that flowed through her limbs made her dizzy with excitement. How Remus never found this wonderful was beyond her. She would have to have a chat with him when she got back.

Relief rose up inside her as she realized that she'd survived her turn, that Harry and Ginny would see her in the morning. Pip would be so proud. She let a long howl go, celebrating her success. The forest became silent as if it were contemplating how to respond to the new arrival, or the inhabitants were now afraid. Hermione huffed and continued wandering.

Fenrir followed from a distance, more than surprised that the mudblood had gotten this far. When she ripped through the wood of the house and pulled through he'd stifled a growl of laughter. She had yet to learn grace as she landed on her side, all silver and grey fur. Watching her was fascinating at first. Her scent changed with the shift, becoming primal and dangerous, like lily extract laced with poison. He inhaled it, noting the fertile undertones with a quiet satisfaction that he was unwilling to admit to out loud. She let one long howl go, silencing the creatures in the forest with her presence.

The she wolf took off into the brush, away from Hogsmeade, her form disappearing into the woods. Fenrir's canines glinted in the moonlight as he silently stalked behind her, his large paws barely marking the earth.

As the night wore on Fenrir became bored watching the Granger girl. She chased after animals, entertained herself for hours by exploring the flora and fauna of the Forbidden Forest, and took a few naps. Soon dawn would come and she would need to be back in the shack so suspicion wouldn't be aroused.

Slowly, she began retracing her steps through the forest, over the slopes and weaving between the trees. Fenrir's eyes glinted as she got closer to the shack, his head cocking to the side when she paused. He smelled the wretch before he saw him and he could only imagine where the new wolf's night was about to turn to. If he could smile, it would be vicious. Body odor masked with cheap whisky, and no sign of decent magic. Fenrir perched where neither would see him to watch how the she wolf would react to a human encroaching on her territory.

Hermione felt a growl rise up through her throat she smelled the man. The blood flowing through his veins called her, begging her to tear his arteries free from the confines of his body. Putting one paw in front of the other, she approached the man who was stumbling around the shack, an empty bottle in one hand.

"Fuckin' 'ell. Who puts up wards for a place like this?!" He kicked at the wall then hissed as he was zapped. He turned away from the building to find Hermione crouched and staring at him. Hermione bared her teeth in a vicious grin.

"No…" he whispered before Hermione leapt at him, her fangs ripping into the flesh of his forearm as he tried to block her attack. She pinned him on the ground, claws tearing at his person to reveal skin. The man began yelling for help, but Hermione knew that no help would come. They were within the wards of the shack and the likelihood of Dumbledore allowing any "shrieking" to escape from the area and scare the residents of Hogsmeade was slim. Leaning down, she gave one long lick to the exposed skin before biting down.

Hermione shredded the flesh of his abdomen, pulling his intestines out with her fangs before biting a chunk off and swallowing it whole. All the rage, the pain, the fear, left her the moment she sunk her canines into his body. He tasted delicious, like sin wrapped in chocolate and she couldn't stop. She could never stop.

The man kept screaming, his mouth twisting in agony as he failed to get away from her. Her claws came up and tore his face to ribbons, pulling an eye from the socket to dangle on his cheek. Hermione consumed as much as she could, reveling in the violence, enjoying the darkness the wolf had unleashed.

Finally he fell silent, leaving the early morning birds chirping in the trees above them. The fur covering Hermione gave way to flesh as she found herself eating the man's liver, enjoying the heavy taste of alcohol in his system.

Fenrir needed a cold shower as he watched Granger look down at the mess in front of her. Her entire body was covered in blood and entrails. Surprise didn't even cover what he was feeling at the moment. Her wild hair had bits of skin in it and it took all his will power to not swoop down there and fuck her before licking her clean.

She didn't even scream as the soon to be corpse groaned, but rather un–holstered her wand and pointed it at the man who looked at her with his one good eye. Head tilted to one side Hermione aimed her wand and a jet of green light shot out, striking the man in the pulpy area that was his chest, and ending his life completely.

Fenrir's mouth dropped open; there was no way that the chit had performed a killing curse. It would be a mercy for the man though and she was a logical girl.

Hermione picked the man up by the arm and tugged him away from the wards before apparating him to the base of Nathair Tower. The chilly spring air caused her skin to break out in gooseflesh and the blood was rapidly drying on her skin. It was uncomfortable but not as uncomfortable as it would be explaining to Harry that she finally understood what it would take for her to survive the first transition. She had to be a killer. Pip would understand though. It explained why he spent hours telling her to be more vicious and less worried about the consequences.

She dropped one of those consequences against the crumbling tower wall. The body squelched against the ground, the innards that she hadn't eaten falling onto the dirt. Hermione gazed at him, wondering if he had a name. He was homeless though, one of the forgotten that you walked past in the streets. No one would find him here; the elements would take him back into the earth and it would be a better ending for him than dying of disease or starvation. She made it quick at least.

After apparating back to the shack, Hermione cast scourgify on herself and began shooting spells from her wand, counting each one until she reached a hundred*. It would be enough to go under the radar if someone were to take a closer look at her wand.

A small amount of guilt crept into the back of her mind, propping it's feet up on an imaginary table to remind Hermione that she was now a murderer, twice over if you counted the fact that she'd eaten the man before casting the killing curse as a mercy. Her wolf was pleased though as it melded into shimmered in her soul and infused within every fiber of her being.

Hermione decided to think about the guilt later. She had other things to concern herself with. Crawling through and then resealing the hole, she dressed then made her way back to the castle.

Fenrir was dumbfounded and harder than a rock. The girl was worthy of his pack after all and once he told his Lord the news that Hermione Granger survived the turn, he would have to contend with Caelen harassing him to take her along with a host of other things. He ran a hand through his hair and blew out a puff of air.

After all these years of attempting to find someone that could actually find it in her to kill a complete innocent, he never expected the mudblood to be the one. He didn't quite know how to feel. This little seventeen year old chit could easily wrap him around her finger now and it wasn't something that he entirely liked.

He'd never considered mating beyond the point of 'will the female survive the turn?' Now he had a lot more to contend with than expected. He stood up, stretching his body with a groan before turning on the spot and apparating away to Malfoy Manor.


	6. Chapter 6

Mild Game of Thrones in here. Like, Taco Bell sauce, mild.

* * *

Oh, you fool, there are rules, I am coming for you  
You can run but you can't escape  
Darkness brings evil things, oh, the reckoning begins  
You will open the yawning grave

-Lord Huron

* * *

Remus stared at the witch sitting across from him, as she sipped her tea and looked out the window, and wondered where the little third year who was terrified of failing went. Hermione exuded all the bearing of a female Alpha; from the line of her neck silhouetted against the window, making her appear vulnerable though she was anything but, to the way she stared at Remus, one brow cocked as if daring him to say anything.

For the hundredth time he opened his mouth to speak then shut it again. She still smelled of blood, despite the scourgify she probably used before she returned to the castle.

"Just spit it out, Remus," Hermione finally said.

Remus grumbled, looking down at the tea in his hands and wishing it were whiskey, "Fine, what happened last night?"

"Can't you tell?" Hermione asked, "If your nose is as good as mine, you can surely tell."

"Alpha, I don't wish—," he began only to be interrupted by Hermione raising her hand.

"Stop," she said, "never call me alpha. Not you. You were my teacher and now I wish for you to be my confidant."

Remus looked at her as she leaned forward and pulled open a drawer from the table next to her then took out a bottle of Ogden's Finest.

"Hermione, it's not even half past eight in the morning. Where did you get that?" He asked with wide eyes as she uncorked the bottle and poured the golden brown liquid in her teacup then his.

"A gift from Harry, he thought it would be a good idea if I made it through last night in one piece. Something to settle my nerves," Hermione set the bottle on the table.

"And are your nerves unsettled?" Remus asked before taking a sip, enjoying the way the liquid made his tongue tingle before swallowing.

Hermione smiled and her eyes flashed an unsettling shade of electric blue before fading to brown, "my nerves are on fire. In a good way of course, but I can't stop reeling from last night. Remus, I _remember_ everything."

The liquid from Remus's cup sloshed as he jolted up in surprise. "Really?! How?!"

"I need a vow that you'll speak to no one of this," Hermione said as she set down her cup and pulled her wand out before holding her hand out to his. Remus stared at the proffered hand and considered his actions. Clearly Hermione had done something terrible if she was asking for his complete silence on the matter. This was werewolf business though, and wizards could be meddlesome in trying to control a situation that they didn't understand. Hermione was his mentee as well… he couldn't leave her without someone to confide in. Someone that would understand better than anyone else what she was going through. He took her hand in his, noting how healthy she seemed after her first turn and looked into her eyes.

"Of course, Hermione. I'm always here to help," he said. Hermione smiled at him and whispered the incantation. Both watched as a glowing green light surrounded their clasped hands before sinking into their skin leaving nothing but a cool sensation behind.

Remus looked at Hermione, who smiled at him, "I killed a man last night. Or rather, this morning." Remus sucked in a breath as she continued, "I had this idea that one of the best ways to deal with the wolf was to give in, let things happen. After Greyback attacked me, I remembered how healthy he was. How he could change from human to wolf with ease. Of course, there's nothing in the Hogwarts library on lycanthropy regarding that. Everything has been written by wizards and from what I've learned; they're not very good at understanding."

Remus leaned forward, intrigued by her line of thought. His parents chose to raise him at home in his early years, keeping his werewolf status under wraps so they could pretend that everything was alright. Their intentions were honorable, but it hadn't been easy. All the werewolves that Remus ever had a halfway decent conversation with were still integrated into wizarding society, and they were all in the same state as he. He'd assumed that it was just the status quo.

"Remus, it doesn't have to be this way. You don't have to live like this, half a man, half a wolf. You could be free." Hermione took his cup and put it on the table before placing his hands in her own. "You deserve peace."

Justice reared its ugly head in the pit of Remus's stomach, "Hermione, killing is wrong."

Hermione looked past him, remorse flashing on her face for a moment before her eyes hardened. "Of course it is. But living isn't wrong. Thriving isn't wrong. Being who you are isn't wrong. Denying an animal the right to live as they need to in order to flourish is wrong. Caging something that could potentially be controlled by an individual choice is wrong."

"Did you control your decision to kill some innocent?" Remus growled, disgruntled with the way that Hermione was being so persuasive.

Hermione smiled, the corners of her mouth ticking up ever so slightly, making her look angelic. Remus wasn't sure if she was an angel or the devil at this point.

"I did. I chose to break through the wards that Dumbledore set, I ran through the Forbidden Forest, I enjoyed myself. Honestly the intent to kill anything didn't even register until this man was trying to break into the shack. He was drunk off his arse, encroaching on my territory and everything seemed to click at that point. I had to do this in order to survive. Otherwise I'd be out at the shack, probably somewhere between transformations, cold on the ground. None of us wanted that."

Remus felt sick as Hermione continued, "I didn't want to stop either. I don't know if I'll need to do it again. My instinct says that it won't be necessary."

Removing his hands from Hermione, Remus rubbed his eyes, "Was he from Hogsmeade?"

"In a way, he was one of the vagrants that came up from Diagon Alley when the homeless shelter was destroyed," Hermione pursed her lips, "you're upset."

Remus pierced Hermione with a look, "Of course I'm upset. You murdered someone."

"Well what did you want me to do? Die?" she snapped. Remus let out the breath of air he didn't know he'd been holding.

"Of course not!" Remus was stuck between a rock and a hard place, his conscience warring with his relief that Hermione was alive.

"Then accept me as I am. More importantly, and the reason that I asked you to come, accept who you are Remus. You need to live and you need to live well." Hermione sat back and looked at her old professor, "we all care about you. The wolf that hasn't quite bonded with you cares about you. Think about it. Think about how free you could be. Healthy and whole, with a pack mate, free to do as you wish."

They stared at one another for a long time, the whiskey infused tea slowly growing cold, before Remus said anything.

"I can keep your secrets, but I don't know if I can take part in any of these actions. It goes against everything I stand for," he moved to stand when Hermione caught him by the sleeve.

"Remus," she looked so hopeful, "just consider it. We can run under the moon together, I can show you that it will all be alright."

Remus stared at her, "what happened to the girl that I knew?" he whispered.

Hermione was silent for a moment, slowly dropping her hand to her side, "I'm still here, just with… different perspectives. I still love my friends and family, I still enjoy being a bookworm and advocating for the rights of magical creatures. I'm still me," she said in a soft voice that nearly broke Remus's heart.

He nodded, "I know, and I'll always care. I just don't think I can give into my wolf the way you have." He pulled Hermione into his arms, squeezing her as he dropped a kiss onto her head.

"Think about it Remus. That's all I'm asking. I care about you." Remus slowly let go of her and moved towards the door. He needed to think, he needed air.

"I will." He opened the door, then shut it behind him before making his way from the Room of Requirement to the floo in Dumbledore's office. The old wizard wasn't in his office, probably off doing something for the Order. Taking a pinch of floo powder and tossing it into the flames, Remus spoke his destination and stepped forward. Moments later he was at Grimmauld Place, standing in front of the fire as tears came to his eyes, spilling down his cheeks.

The lost innocence of Hermione Granger was devastating while her offers and the images she painted her so appealing he wanted to turn back and demand that they go to the Forbidden Forest that evening.

His hands shook as he grabbed a glass from a cupboard in the kitchen and poured two fingers of whiskey in it. Slouching down at the kitchen table, grateful that everyone was out and about for the day, he drank himself into a stupor. It was only when he was close to passing out that he realized Hermione never said she wasn't Dark.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore stared at the Shrieking Shack and frowned. When Madam Pomfrey came back up to the castle to inform him that one of the homeless she'd been treating had been missing since last night his suspicions rose, making him hurry down to the Shrieking Shack instead of tending to the piles of paperwork in his office. Miss Granger had been at breakfast though, chatting amiably with Harry and Ginevra Weasley. Her forward elf was busy running about the hall, filling students' plates and telling them to eat so they could go about their weekend with full bellies. Everything seemed normal.

"The wards aren't broken though," Minerva McGonagall said as she walked along the edge of the shack. Albus narrowed his eyes, something was amiss, but he just couldn't find it.

"Miss Granger is a brilliant student, even with her new characteristics. She's become ruthless. I couldn't get the information from Mr. Malfoy, but I have this inkling that she was the one who injured him so grievously. She could be a danger to the students, to her family if she returns home to them this summer…" Albus trailed off, his mind going over all possible scenarios. He'd hoped that after she was bitten, she could be of use as a lure for Greyback's pack to come over to their side. After all, female werewolves were in short supply. Instead he was profoundly disappointed.

"We need to call an Order meeting as soon as possible," he sighed, "there is a potential that Miss Granger could be a danger to wizard and muggle alike."

Minerva gasped, "Albus, do you really think that she could kill someone? The missing man was a wanderer, he could have gotten lost in the forest!"

Albus nodded, "it pains me to admit it but the possibility is strong. Call the Order."

Minerva grimaced but sent off a patronus requesting the presence of the members within the hour. She looked at the Shrieking Shack again, not quite believing what Albus suspected.

"What will you do?" she asked.

"I have a plan," he said before pulling a pouch out of his pocket and selecting a lemon drop. Minerva's stomach dropped and she wondered just how much of a plan this would involve in meddling with Miss Granger's life.

* * *

Fenrir paced in front of the gilded door of the overdone Malfoy Manor, waiting for the potion that the Dark Lord was brewing to stabilize so he and the others in the hall could gain admittance. Jerking his hands through his unkempt hair to try and stave off the sight of the mudblood consuming that man wasn't working any longer. Fenrir was sure that he'd never be able to banish the hunger that the image created. He wanted to feast alongside the girl, and then fuck her into oblivion while they were covered in their prey's blood. His weakness disgusted him.

Leaning against the wall next to the door and shutting his eyes, Fenrir let a low rumbling growl loose from deep in his chest. The chit couldn't have gotten to him this bad.

"Looks like you've been through quite a night," Dolohov said as he walked up to the werewolf, "she make it?"

Fenrir snapped his eyes open and looked at the smartly dressed wizard, "with flying colors." Dolohov's lips curled up and soon he was laughing like he'd just heard the greatest joke in the world. The other Death Eaters waiting for an audience looked at the duo in curiosity.

"I wonder how the Dark Lord will react to that information. How did she do it?" Dolohov asked when his laughter subsided.

"That is a story best reserved for the Dark Lord to hear before I tell anyone else."

The door opened and Bellatrix Lestrange emerged, her wild hair obscenely frizzy from the potion her master had been brewing. "The Dark Lord wishes to see you all." She turned around and walked back inside, leaving her fellow Death Eaters to follow in two columns. Dolohov placed his mask back over his face and got in line as they all walked forward into the room and assumed their positions. Fenrir stood at the back, waiting for his summons to the center of the room where Voldemort, Bellatrix, and Lucius Malfoy stood next to a bubbling cauldron.

The room was silent once everyone settled; floating candles casting eerie shadows over the Death Eaters as they all stared forward, heads bowed towards their Lord. Voldemort looked over his court, his lips twisting into a maniacal grin.

"A little history lesson is in order today, for those of you who remain ignorant," Voldemort's voiced whispered over the crowd, "as you all know, Salazar Slytherin was a great Lord, his family arriving in and conquering much of Scotland hundreds of years before he was born. The noble families swore their fealty to the line of Slytherin, recognizing them as worthy rulers for their strength in magic and ruthlessness in battle. Many of you are descended from those lines and carry on the traditions of your ancestors by honoring our cause. One of those lines, however, was killed off."

Voldemort stepped towards the cauldron, and plucked a phial of red liquid from a small table next to the cauldron. "Clan Nathair birthed warriors; men and women that exuded raw magic and power. Their House was important to the Slytherins, as the men were valuable advisors and formidable fighters for the Head of the Slytherin Line," Voldemort said as he waved his wand over the phial, the stopped coming free to float back onto the table. Fenrir shifted his weight slightly, clenching his fists when the smell of Granger's blood hit his nostrils making his mouth water in anticipation.

"Salazar Slytherin sought a consort from the Nathair; one Lady Bridgette, daughter of the Lord Nathair. She followed the orders of her father and went to Salazar. When the witch conceived a child, Salazar lavished gifts upon her; calling her his queen and demanding that she bind herself to him in the ancient way. Lady Nathair refused and Salazar discovered that she was having an affair with a muggle. Salazar questioned the legitimacy of the unborn child, and through information provided by spies found that the spawn in his lady's womb was a half blood.

Lady Nathair disappeared before action could be taken, only to be found living in the wilds with a single house elf and no child to be seen. Enraged at her betrayal, Salazar executed her entire family and then imprisoned her and the elf in one of their clans' towers. Lady Nathair, using the last of her magic and life, placed wards on the tower so that only a true blooded Nathair could be admitted. Which brings us to why we are here today; Fenrir, come forward." The Dark Lord beckoned toward the wolf through the mist coming off the cauldron.

Fenrir stepped into the circle and bowed low before Voldemort before straightening his spine, bringing his focus just below the Dark Lord's chin.

"Your report?" asked Voldemort.

"Granger survived her first transition. She is now part of my pack though she will be difficult to procure until the school year is over." Fenrir growled, knowing how much of a pain in the arse it could potentially be to get her to go with him.

Voldemort's eyes sparkled like rubies, "tell me how she did it?"

Fenrir thought back to the way the early dawn light filtered through the trees as the grey she wolf ran in over the pine needles and past the ferns scattered over the forest floor. She was playful in her demeanor, ready to pounce on anything she considered interesting, rolling about in the foliage and coming up with her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth. But she was so much more than just a frolicking wolf.

"There was a man outside the Shrieking Shack, trying to get into the building. The Granger girl encountered him when she was returning and made a right feast out of him. She ripped out his internals and practically danced in his entrails." Murmurs broke out all around him, mutterings of disbelief at the girl's behavior. Fenrir's lips curled into a vicious smirk, "the man was still alive when she transformed, so she took him out with a killing curse."

"The mudblood managed a killing curse?!" shrieked Bellatrix, making Fenrir's hair stand on end and Lucius visibly cringe. The muttering rose to a roar.

"Potter's little whore couldn't do either of those things!" Thorfinn Rowle exclaimed, removing his mask with his wand, "she's too much of a brown–nosing, goody–two–shoe!"

Fenrir fixed his icy gaze on the blonde wizard and tilted his head to the side, "I saw her eat a man, Rowle. I saw her cast a killing curse without remorse. She got rid of the body then sealed up the shack."

"How could she go from Potter's lackey to something so…" Lucius trailed off, trying to find the right words.

"Vicious?" Dolohov volunteered, looking between the werewolf, the other Death Eaters and the Dark Lord.

"Perhaps if you would allow Fenrir to explain," Voldemort hissed, silencing the crowd to the point where the only thing that could be heard was the bubbling of the cauldron.

Fenrir cleared his throat, "When she was bitten, it triggered her underlying personality… it is the way of all female wolves. Granger has a ruthless streak that's been enhanced by the bite. She is still entirely herself, just with the darker facets of her personality becoming stronger."

The Dark Lord began to applaud, the light sound of his palms hitting each other echoing through the chamber. "This is a pleasant surprise. You made a good choice in biting her that night in the Nathair Tower. Well done, Fenrir"

The dark wizard dumped the phial of blood into the cauldron, making the once green liquid turn to gold.

"Because the girl was able to gain access to Nathair Tower, I wish to see exactly what secrets her dirty blood holds," said the Dark Lord. Slowly a shimmering tree made of mist emerged from the cauldron, silver branches unfurling to reveal gold leaves. The tree expanded and nearly filled the entire ceiling. More murmurs of awe and wonder floated on the air as surprise overtook the crowd. Voldemort stood speechless, wand at his side, as the tree grew before him.

"A Witchborn…" whispered Bellatrix, her eyes glossy as she looked at the tree that represented Hermione's blood line in amazement, "there haven't been any known Witchborns for centuries."

Fenrir moved closer, examining the golden trunk that represented Granger before his eyes flittered up to the leaves. Each leaf held the name of an ancestor in elegant script. It would figure that Hermione Granger was descended from the Nathair Clan. Not a true mudblood any longer, as far as he was concerned.

"Fascinating," murmured Voldemort as he waved his wand, making the tree turn so he could look at the bloodlines of the higher branches. "Silver turning into gold…" He stood straight and looked at his Death Eaters

"It would seem that Miss Granger's bloodline has never been tainted with true muggle blood. But rather her family line is descended from squibs that came from pureblood lines. A true Witchborn." The Dark Lord lifted his wand and gently waved it, bringing the top of the tree closer for his inspection.

When the Dark Lord sucked in a breath, Fenrir moved closer, nearly shoving Bellatrix out of the way to see what surprised his lord in such a manner. Two gold leaves connected by golden twigs cast a glow over his face, making Fenrir squint to read the names.

 _Lady Bridgette Nathair_

 _Lord Salazar Slytherin_

The twigs sprouted another leaf, the name _Dand Granger_ stood out proudly, glittering against the leaf's blade. Below that, the leaves turned silver, indicating that a squib had been produced.

"This cannot be possible," whispered Lucius as he gripped his cane, staring in awe at the sparkling tree.

It all made sense to Fenrir, and he knew that things were clicking into place for the rest of the Death Eaters. Dand Granger had been hidden from Salazar Slytherin; most likely for his protection if he was thought to be a halfblooded son of a traitor, or because he was actually the son of a feared lord. A quick glance at the Dark Lord showed the man's brow furrowed in thought. Voldemort raised his wand again and tapped the cauldron, making the tree vanish.

"This is entirely an unexpected surprise," the Dark Lord said as he stepped away from the cauldron, "but not an unwelcome one. Fenrir, you have done a great service to the cause by bringing Miss Granger into your pack. I wish to reward you. Kneel."

Doing his best to hide any confusion on his face, Fenrir knelt down onto the stone floor and bowed his head.

"Look upon me, Lord Greyback," Voldemort whispered. Lifting his eyes to the wizard, he was surprised to find the yew wand extended towards his left arm, "and give me your arm."

"My Lord," Fenrir gasped, eagerly rolling up his sleeve. Finally he was going to be fully acknowledged as a Death Eater, a true follower of the cause. He'd always considered himself worthy, and finally he was able to have exactly what we wanted. He presented his arm to the Dark Lord, who pressed his wand into the flesh and began hissing an incantation.

Pain blazed into his skin, setting every nerve in his arm alight. It was no worse than turning into a wolf but it seeped into his very soul, like water filling every pocket of air. Fenrir didn't scream, but the howl that ripped from his chest caused the gathered Death Eaters to shiver in fear. Now, he was a force to be reckoned with; no longer mocked for being a half breed, but feared for the privilege and honor the Dark Lord bestowed onto him.

The pain suddenly ceased and Fenrir glanced at the mark burned onto his arm. The skull and snake glistened against his sweat covered skin, creating an image that made Fenrir's lips curve up into a cruel smile.

"Bella," Voldemort said softly, flicking his fingers to indicate that she should come forward, "present Lord Greyback with his mask so that he may join his brothers."

The dark haired witch came forward, sauntering up to Fenrir before presenting him with a silver mask engraved in varying Celtic knots that made up hundreds of moons. "Welcome to the family," she whispered, a mad gleam in her eyes.

Fenrir took the mask, noting how light it was, and placed it over his face. Slowly he stood, then bowed to the Dark Lord, "I am honored, my Lord, for your generous gift."

Voldemort's lips curved upwards, "for your first task, I want you to procure the Granger girl. Wait until she is away from the school. Find her by any means necessary, watch her house, and learn her parents' behaviors. Gather information on her schedule. Lucius?"

The blonde stepped forward with a bow, "my Lord?"

"Tell Draco that he must send word to Lord Greyback regarding Miss Granger's movements."

Lucius blanched and tried to cover the emotion on his face, but Voldemort had noticed and turned his complete attention onto the wizard. "Why, dear Lucius, do you object?"

"Miss Granger will string my son up from the rafters if he goes anywhere near her. She's already put him in the hospital wing once," Lucius said, his face flushing.

"How, pray tell, did she manage that? Your son is a wizard, is he not?" asked the Dark Lord, bringing his wand up to tap it in his palm. Lucius was visibly sweating at this point; Greyback could smell his fear and reveled in it. Finally someone was taking the Malfoy family to task.

"She stabbed him with a muggle pen, before choking him and…" Lucius trailed off.

"And what?" asked a now sneering Dark Lord. Lucius swallowed before standing straight and attempting to regain his composure.

"Assaulting the most personal part of his body and then threatening the Malfoy family line with lycanthropy if he were to come near her again," said Lucius as a sneer appeared on his face.

Fenrir couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped his lips. Even the Dark Lord smirked, making the entire room fill with bone chilling sound of evil men and women cackling. Lucius stood, attempting to be the stoic lord of the manor while his colleagues enjoyed his humiliation.

"Miss Granger is quite the spitfire. Fenrir, do your best to reign her in, will you? It would be quite a pity for the Malfoy line to become a bit… lupine."

"Yes, my Lord." Fenrir bowed his head. He wasn't sure what to make of the chit at this point, but her ferocity raised all sorts of curiosity on his part.

"Now go!" Commanded the Dark Lord before he waved his wand to bring the tree forth from the cauldron and leaned forward to examine the shimmering leaves.

They were quiet until they got into the hall and Dolohov clapped his hand on Fenrir's back. "Well done, sir!" the wizard exclaimed, pulling Fenrir along next to him. "I do believe drinks are in order. I also know of a nice little brothel where we could set up for the evening, seeing as how you'll only be a bachelor for so much longer."

Fenrir thought about the fact that he'd much rather have Granger to ride than a couple of whores, but he tried to keep his mind from going down the tunnel of confused fantasy. He wanted Granger. He wanted her to submit to him, spread her legs for him, and hunt with him. He didn't want love though. He didn't want to deal with a shrew of a woman nagging at him if he left his laundry on the bedroom floor. He didn't want to deal with the realities of what having a mate meant.

Instead he focused on how thirsty he was and the fact that his stomach was now growling, "a couple of whores and some ale sound nice. I am hungry after all."

Dolohov roared with laughter and gripped his shoulder, "I do enjoy watching you eat!"

The two left the manor, turning on the spot and disapparating only to leave the mists of the Wiltshire air swirling in their place.

* * *

Severus was beyond livid. He couldn't even find a word to describe the wrath he wished to inflict on Dumbledore. The man was positively mad! What positive impact could his plan to manipulate Miss Granger's parents to such an extent bring? If anything it would push the girl further away from his _illuminated_ cause.

Severus stormed through the corridors, deducting house points left and right, assigning two weeks detention to Mr. Weasley and Miss Brown for shagging in a cupboard during a free period before striding off to his office in the dungeon.

Flinging the door open and then slamming it shut behind him, Severus wished that the old man had seen reason. What he was about to do was beyond ethical and sending Moody to do it? Barking, Dumbledore was barking mad.

Arguing with Dumbledore about keeping Miss Granger under his thumb had proven fruitless. The girl would surely object, as she'd completed her transformation and likely react poorly to anything Dumbledore suggested in regards to her family. Wolves were very protective of their families after all.

Severus shook his head and sat at his desk to compose a note. The Dark Lord would want to know of this development concerning the witch.

* * *

Alastor Moody limped along the neat tree lined streets just outside of London, peering at the cars with his magical eye to examine the contraptions that put the vehicles together before continuing on to the Granger household.

Dumbledore said this was for the greater good and the protection of muggle kind. Alastor could agree with that and see the reason behind it. Dumbledore was a brilliant wizard, after all. Pausing to take a swig from his flask of whiskey, Alastor's good eye surveyed the neighborhood. Trimmed hedges and trees, nice homes, and the sight of people enjoying their evening meals made his face contort into an odd looking grin. This peace was what the Order was fighting for. He opened the front gate of the home he'd been seeking and limped his way up to the front stoop, his wooden leg making a dull thump with each step.

Only a moment after knocking, shadows appeared in the stained glass and the door opened. Mr. and Mrs. Granger looked at the strange man, curiosity turning to worry as they took in his state of dress, magical eye and lack of a normal leg.

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger, I presume?" Moody growled. The two muggles nodded.

"I'm here on behalf of Albus Dumbledore, in regards to your daughter Hermione." He pulled a piece of parchment out and handed it over to Mr. Granger. "A letter of introduction from Professor Dumbledore. He thought you might need that."

"Is she alright?!" asked Mrs. Granger, her hand coming up to cover her throat.

"She's fine, just wanting to keep you appraised of events," said Moody, "mind if I come in?"

Mr. Granger looked up and pulled his wife towards him, "Not at all. Any friend of Hermione's is welcome here."

Moody smiled, and limped into the home before the door shut behind him. The street fell silent again, absent of conversation, and the neighbor's nights continued on as usual.


	7. Chapter 7

I don't really know if I can classify this as Game of Thrones-esque. But it's still a game loves.

* * *

This is the end

My beloved friends

I'm lost in dreams and all I know is where I've been

Run love

I'm the truth that you're afraid of

I'm a fever that you made up

Just a martyr on a bridge that's burning down

-Boy Epic

* * *

Harry wasn't sure if it was the heaviness of the red blanket draped over his body, or the way Ron and Lavender were snoring after their last frolic in bed, but sleep wasn't coming easily to him. The red eyes of Voldemort kept flashing through his mind, followed by cruel laughing and blood curdling screams. Over time the images faded until they were nothing more than nightmares. But lately they stood at the forefront of his mind, reaching out with cold fingers to penetrate his daily life, and damned if Harry wasn't fighting it anymore.

He was so tired of fighting, fearing for his life, and wondering who was going to die next. Ron let out an earth shaking snore as Harry rolled over in bed, rubbing the scar on his forehead. In the deep, dark recesses of his mind, Harry imagined Voldemort deciding he wasn't the enemy and ceasing all pursuit. At this point in his life it was a recurring dream; one he used to wake up from feeling extremely guilty. Though, ever since going back to the Chamber of Secrets, the guilt began to dissipate only to replaced by a need. Harry wanted freedom.

When Lavender joined Ron in creating a chorus of snoring Harry knew he wouldn't be falling asleep any time soon. He threw his covers off and tiptoed to the door, opening and closing it behind him before trudging down the stairs.

Ginny sat in front of the fire, wrapped in one of his Quidditch jerseys, perusing the notes that Pip had taken in the Chamber. The sight warmed Harry, a grin spreading across his face as he plopped down next to his favorite red head.

"You left these notes down here," said Ginny as she handed them to Harry, "they're actually very interesting."

Harry took the notes, "which part?" He began flipping through the pages, impressed by Pip's neat handwriting.

"Well, specifically the part on how to break prophecies..." Ginny trailed off before staring into the fire. Harry's face paled as he looked at the witch.

"What?" he croaked.

"You won't like it, but here..." Ginny reached over, pulling a couple pages free and handing them to Harry. He perused the page, and frowned before shaking his head.

"I don't know if I can do that Gin," he said, putting the sheets back, "not only would we need the right spell from the right book, but that would make me no better than him."

Ginny rolled her eyes, "I know, Harry, but he did mark you as his equal."

Harry blinked at Ginny for a long time, then picked his glasses off his face to clean them with his shirt. "Since when are you the Devil's advocate?"

Ginny shrugged, "I'm tired, Harry. Tired of worrying, tired of running... and..."

"And?" Harry prompted. Ginny was silent for a long time, chewing on her lips while she chewed on the words in her head.

"When we went down to the Chamber, a piece of me felt... at home. It was odd. Like, I somehow belonged there. I mean, I nearly died down there, but this wasn't scary this time. It was warm and welcoming. You speaking Parseltongue, Hermione being able to open the door with her blood. It all felt right. The rest of me was horrified, if you can imagine, and that horror kept me from letting that small side of me show. It was just... weird. Do you think I'm going... dark?" Ginny looked at Harry, her brow furrowed with concern.

Harry wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to him. "I don't know. Have you mentioned this to Hermione?" He whispered. Ginny shook her head.

"She might be able to give us an answer once she's less... wolfy. She was dead on her feet when she went to bed. We can ask her later.." Using his free hand, Harry slid his glasses back on, " I've been feeling the same.I've been having less issues lately with the things that my memory brings up, things that used to terrify me but now I'm... alright with. I'm tired too, Gin. I'm tired of this war and if I could, I'd take you to Barcelona and we'd drink sangria on the Mediterranean until we couldn't see straight."Harry kissed the top of her head when Ginny groaned in pleasure at the thought of a holiday like that.

"There wouldn't be any Death Eaters, no Dark Lord, no Dursleys, Mum wouldn't be losing her top at all of her children... oh, it would be lovely." Ginny sighed.

"When all of this is over, I'll take you."

"Mmmm... ok," said Ginny as she snuggled into Harry's side, "that sounds like a plan."

They were both silent for awhile, enjoying the crackling flames when suddenly two small pops next to the fireplace startled them from their day dreams of beaches and sand.

"I'll be checking on Mistress! Dobby must not interfere with Pip's work!" Pip was growling at the smaller house elf who glared defiantly up at him.

"Dobby does not agree with Pip going into check on students while they are asleep!" Dobby snapped back.

"Mistress is Pip's charge! She is more than a student! Dobby likes to stare at Master Potter while he sleeps, why can't Pip check in on his Mistress?!" Snarled Pip.

Harry went beet red, and Ginny began laughing at the thought of Dobby breathing on Harry in the middle of the night. Both elves turned to the witch and wizard, chagrin blossoming over their faces as they realized they were overheard. Pip immediately bowed, pushing Dobby down to do the same.

"Forgive Pip and Dobby, Master Potter and Mistress Weasley. We did not expect students to be out of bed at this hour," said Pip.

"Harry Potter is free to do as he wishes!" said Dobby, glaring at Pip.

"It's... fine. It's fine." Harry said before nudging Ginny to try and quiet her wheezing laughter.

Pip stood up, and nodded, "Good. Pip will check on Mistress." The elf shot up the stairs to the girl's dormitory, leaving Harry to stare at Dobby while Ginny laughed like a maniac.

"So, Dobby..." Harry began as Ginny clutched her stomach, "why have you been staring at me while sleeping?"

Dobby looked around, panicked, before flinging himself in front of Harry, "Harry Potter is the greatest wizard! Dobby is scared that he may not wake up! Dobby doesn't want the Dark Lord to hurt Harry Potter!"

"Dobby, the chances of me being hurt by Voldemort while inside Hogwarts are very slim." Harry reassured.

Dobby nodded with watering eyes, "but Dobby will still worry!"

"I'll be fine, Dobby." said Harry as Pip came down the stairs.

"Mistress is sleeping well. But Pip will have to make her bathe in the morning. She still smells of blood from her first turn," the elf said as he began picking up the common room. Dobby jumped up and joined him while Harry tried to process what Pip just said and Ginny stared at the elf in disbelief.

"What– what do you mean blood?" Ginny asked.

"Mistress became a Wolf. She did what she had to do in order to survive." Pip said casually as he tidied up a stack of books and tsked at the socks on the floor left over from the first year's study session before waving his hand to make them disappear. He no longer trusted laundry after the other elves filling him on his Mistress' S.P.E.W. antics.

"Merlin," Ginny muttered, all thoughts of Barcelona and Dobby creeping on Harry leaving her mind.

Harry frowned, "we'll talk to her soon. She has to tell us what happened."

Ginny nodded, her freckled face abnormally pale. Hermione probably had a whopper of a story to tell.

* * *

"I'm not sure I understand, Professor. I'm not allowed to go home for the Spring holiday?" Hermione kept her voice measured and even. It wouldn't do her any good if she started growling at the Professor, since she could see where he was coming from.

"I'm sorry, Miss Granger, but considering your _condition_ the Order and I think it is prudent if you remain at Hogwarts until you know more about the wolf that has awoken in you," said Professor Dumbledore as he popped another lemon drop into his mouth. The scent of the candy wafted in her nose, reminding her of who set the wards around the Shrieking Shack and her wolf reared up through her soul at the thought of the old man trying to imprison her _again_.

Hermione knew her wolf, better than Dumbledore would ever know, and right now her wolf wanted to slaughter the man. She couldn't risk something happening here though, at Hogwarts, while all the professors were around.

"It's nowhere near the full moon though, and I put the request in weeks ago. The Express leaves tomorrow... please, if things are going wrong I can come back. I've only had two moons of experience but I would never hurt my family. I miss them," she reasoned. Professor Dumbledore shook his head.

"I am sorry. But it's for everyone's safety," he said, "now, I believe you have potions. Professor Snape would not like to be kept waiting."

Knowing that she was thoroughly dismissed, Hermione left the office silently and walked down to the dungeons, keeping her anger at a low simmer so she didn't end up destroying half of Hogwarts.

" _What would Greyback do?"_ she asked herself. He'd probably wait, like a patient hunter biding his time. She could be patient and see where everyone's cards lay before making any moves. Clearly the Headmaster was up to something. She could smell it all over him and the way he seemed to avert his gaze for that one second, or the way his hands fiddled with the lemon drop wrapper was a giveaway.

Her lip curled up into a snarl. How dare he keep her from her family! She had all the control in the world and she loved her parents. She'd never harm them, even during the full moon. Stalking into her class and slamming her bag down next to Harry, she growled under her breath.

The Boy Who Lived stared at his best friend for a moment, "what's the matter?" he whispered.

Hermione shook her head as she turned to watch Professor Snape swoop into the room, his hair a stringy frame about his face that swayed back and forth with each agitated step.

"What's with him?" Ron leaned forward to whisper into Harry's ear, surprising the both of them that their red headed friend was actually deigning to speak with them instead of tugging at Lavender's pigtails.

"Maybe Professor Dumbledore won't let him go on holiday to see family, either." Hermione muttered as she crossed her arms and waited for the Professor to start on the potions project. Ron gave Harry a look and sat back next to Lavender, not wanting to touch Hermione's attitude with a ten foot broomstick.

Harry grabbed Hermione's hand beneath the table, giving it a squeeze. Releasing a breath of air, she focused on the lesson and not on Dumbledore's manipulations.

By the end of potions, she'd calmed down enough to get an O on the potion for the day, leaving her in much better spirits.

"Miss Granger, a word." said Professor Snape. The potions professor kept a watchful eye on the Granger girl over the past couple full moons and he would never let her know that he was rooting for her. He knew that she'd been in Professor Dumbledore's office regarding the upcoming holiday. If anyone needed a break, he'd believe it was Granger.

The Dark Lord hadn't been pleased when he learned of Dumbledore's plans with her parents, or that they were already carried out. Given that Miss Granger's bloodline had proven to be far more interesting than any of them could anticipate, Severus understood exactly why he was angry. Even touching the Granger's was now considered sacrilege within Voldemort's court. While he wasn't always privy to all the Dark Lord's meetings, the last one he'd attended had a very upset Fenrir, who vehemently denied that he cared for the witch but that pack was never to be messed with. The wolf still patrolled outside of the Granger's home, waiting for something to happen. Severus's lips curled upwards as he thought of how Fenrir would react the first time he'd see Miss Granger again. Or, how she would react to him. It would be an enlightening experience, to be sure.

Once Hermione approached him, leaving Harry behind to gather his things making only four left in the room; Draco had stayed behind to deliver a note to Hermione, Snape leaned against his desk.

"I have it on good authority that Professor Dumbledore isn't letting you visit your parents this Spring," he drawled. Hermione heard Harry and Draco's heads snap up to look at the professor.

Crossing her arms, she tilted her head to the side, "you have heard correctly, Professor."

Why he was bringing this up in front of Draco was beyond her unless the man wanted to give the boy room to gloat.

"I also know that Dumbledore will be leaving the castle on Sunday morning for the week to travel."

"Why is he traveling?" asked Harry, coming forward to stand next to Hermione. Severus sneered at him.

"This information isn't directed at you, Mr. Potter." Draco sniggered in the background and it took all her willpower not to roll her eyes. She didn't need any points deducted if she swiped that smirk off his face along with a bit of flesh.

"While Professor Dumbledore is off traveling, the other professors and I have been assigned with watching the remaining student body to make sure there isn't any trouble. We've each been assigned a night. Mine in particular is on Sunday," the professor loomed over her, "and I would very much appreciate if Mr. Malfoy or any other member of the student body remains in one piece."

Hermione blinked at the Professor. Had he really just brought up her lycanthropy and attack on Draco in front of the stupid boy? The blonde prat was now snorting with laughter at his Head of House calling Hermione out. Irritation crossed her features as she turned and glared at the boy, breathing in a scent of cold iron that indicated Draco was trying to hide nervousness.

"He's not earning any brownie points, sir." Harry said gesturing towards Draco who stopped laughing and sneered at the black haired boy.

Hermione looked between the three of them as understanding dawned on her as to what Professor Snape was really trying to convey.

"Alright, Professor. We'll do our best to remain out of trouble at Hogwarts." She smiled at him, flashing a white fang that immediately disappeared before grabbing her bag and leaving without proper dismissal. Harry trailed after her, shooting a glance at Draco who suddenly looked like a ferret wanting to hide instead of making his next move.

Hermione exploded in the hall, "I don't know what the hell is going on, but I better get some answers here soon!"

Harry attempted to place a calming hand on Hermione's arm, but she jerked out of the way and shoved him behind her.

"And you! You pretentious prat! I thought I told you to stay away from me!" She snarled at an unarmed Draco who carried a letter in his hand.

"Just delivering a message..." he said, walking forward with his hands raised in the air.

Hermione flicked her eyes between Draco and the letter before inhaling a musk filled cinnamon scent, making her irises turn a bright white color causing Draco to stumble backwards. Hermione made a decision, one that could potentially prove to be a bad idea if Draco became unpredictable but she needed him under her thumb."Harry," she pulled a charmed galleon from her bag, "summon Ginny. We're going to our _special meeting place_."

Harry, slightly dumbfounded and beyond confused as to what exactly Hermione was thinking in bringing Draco into the Chamber, took the coin and sent Ginny the message.

"Now, let's go for a little walk to one of the all time best destinations Hogwarts has to offer," Hermione said, instantly chipper. Draco looked at Harry for help but he shook his head.

"She isn't talking about the kitchens, Malfoy." A familiar darkness settled in Harry's stomach as he pulled out his wand and pointed it at the Slytherin, "walk to the first floor girl's toilet."

Draco stared at Harry but turned around, Harry's wand in his back, and he moved forward.

Ginny was leaning against the sink, fiddling with a snitch, when the three came in.

"Any reason why we're even showing Malfoy this?" she asked, not even looking up.

"Draco has brought me a letter from one Fenrir Greyback, I believe. I want to open it where I know that no one will look for his body if the letter contains a curse." Hermione said, ignoring Draco's startled look at the use of his first name. She walked up to the tap and gently nudged Ginny out of the way before bending over to look at the snake engraving.

When the hiss left her lips, Draco began squirming and begging Harry to let him go. Harry smirked and cast a muffilato on the bathroom before shoving his wand into Draco's throat. "I'd be quiet, considering that everything you've done leading up to Hermione getting bit has put you in this mess."

Draco whimpered, "I'm just the messenger, don't shoot the messenger, yeah?"

"You shouldn't have approached me when you knew full well to stay away," growled Hermione as she grabbed the boy and shoved him down the tunnel before following him.

When they hit the ground, a sick satisfaction flowed through Hermione as she saw that Draco was ready to piss himself. The boy was crawling up off the floor, doing his best not to cry. Hermione smelled his fear and smiled.

"Greyback d–doesn't know it... b–but he's going to love you." Draco stammered as he came to his feet, holding his hand out with the note that smelled like the Alpha werewolf.

"That so?" Hermione said as Harry and Ginny came to stand at her side, "because I really want nothing to do with him."

Draco looked away, a submissive gesture that had Hermione raising a brow before plucking the letter from his hand. The parchment wasn't cursed, but just using a single glance wouldn't be enough to determine if there wasn't a spell cast on it.

"Harry, Ginny, do me a favor and take Draco's wand and hold him." Hermione began opening the parchment.

"I'm showing a serious amount of trust by not even having it drawn!" Draco protested as Harry and Ginny moved forward, taking the wand from his pocket and shoving him against the wall. "What is wrong with you three?! You're supposed to be the good guys!"

Ginny began laughing, while Harry looked bemused. "The good guys? Is anyone really good, Malfoy? We've been chased, cursed, harassed, belittled, doubted... and you expect us to turn the other cheek? Bend over and take it?"

"You're acting like you're dark or something." Draco's lip curled in distaste at the fact that the status quo had shifted.

"Maybe we are dark, Malfoy," whispered Ginny, "maybe being down here taps into the darkness Voldemort has touched us with." The redshifted forward, enjoying how freaked out Draco was looking, "maybe we're so far gone that you'll never make it out of here."

"Now, Gin. Don't scare him. His daddy would have a hippogriff if something happened," said Harry.

"Too right you are on that, Harry," Hermione said as she waved her hand, igniting sconces in the wall. Draco sputtered as Hermione continued, "unfortunately we have to keep him alive along with keeping this whole thing a secret."

Hermione opened the letter and tsked, "Malfoy, stop sputtering. We're not going to murder you. Bloody hell, Slytherins always take things so seriously!"

Looking at the letter and ignoring the enticing scent that spiraled into her nostrils when she opened it, Hermione began perusing.

 _Granger,_

 _I never thought I'd actually be writing you. You should consider yourself lucky. Congratulations on surviving your first turn. It was... enticing to see you perform so admirably. I'll admit I was shocked that the golden girl could do something so vicious. Expect me to show you how much I appreciated your display in the future, and believe me Witch, I plan on it._

 _I thought about addressing you as mudblood. But that no longer applies. Our Lord has deemed it so. There will be many surprises for you when I can catch up with you after the school year ends._

 _Oh, did the Malfoy pup act submissive towards you? I told him it might keep you from tearing his throat out. You're welcome._

 _Rest well, she wolf._

 _G_

Hermione ignored the beating of her heart and the tightness in her lower stomach as she folded the letter back up. Greyback was very sure of himself, for never having actually spent any time with her outside of a good mauling. His knowledge of the night of her first turn was also unsettling. Had he been _watching_ her? She shivered and scrunched the parchment in her fist.

"What does he want?" Ginny asked.

"A good shag. Not that he'll be getting any." Hermione began walking down towards the mouth of Salazar, "let's enjoy ourselves, yeah? Malfoy, you up for a game of Exploding Snap?"

"Am I what? Excuse me?" Draco said as Ginny and Harry let him go and clasped hands before following Hermione's lead, walking behind her as if nothing were pervertedly wrong.

"Cards, Draco... do you want to play cards?" said Hermione, as if he were the dumbest person in the world.

Draco gulped, knowing that his father would prefer that he get on Granger's good side for whatever reason the Dark Lord wished and moved forward, "Err, I guess so."

"You know Malfoy, this is the least eloquent I've ever seen you. It's also probably one of the most civil conversations that we've ever had," Ginny said as she practically skipped in between the three of them.

"I don't get it, why aren't you cowering in fear? You're in the place where you almost died," Draco said.

"Oh we're all going to die," Harry said as he held Draco's wand out to him, "some of us sooner than others."

The Slytherin blinked, confusion clouding his face as he slowly took his wand back, relief flooding him to have the familiar wood in his hands, "you two are far more comfortable than you should be. Don't Gryffindor's have a sense of self preservation?"

"Draco does bring up a good point, what is with you two?" Hermione said, turning around to look at the three.

Harry shrugged, "it's been like this for awhile. Something about being down here makes us feel... different."

Hermione frowned, "I'm not complaining, but how long has this been going on?"

"Probably since just after you managed your first turn. We just... feel, comfortable here. Content," said Ginny as she stopped skipping.

Hermione looked between the two and then sniffed the air. Nose up, nostrils flaring with each breath, Hermione walked towards the two, inhaling their scents one by one before standing up with confusion on her face.

"You both smell the same. Similar to the way the Chamber smells." She sniffed again, "how odd."

"What's odd," Draco interjected, "is this entire situation. Why are we here? Three Gryffindors and a Slytherin don't exactly constitute as normal."

"Well you not being a complete prat isn't exactly normal either," quipped Harry. Draco shot him a glare and Harry flipped him the bird.

Hermione smiled, "don't you see Draco? By taking you down here you're keeping one of my biggest secrets and if you break it, I _will_ kill you."

Draco stepped back a few feet, "like you killed that vagrant?"

Harry and Ginny looked at Hermione, "you murdered someone?" Harry whispered, understanding dawning on his features. No wonder Pip hadn't been willing to share information about the night of Hermione's first turn.

Hermione glanced between the three of them and sighed, "I did what I had to do to survive. It's how females survive their first transition."

A sliver of Harry was disgusted that his friend was a murderer but the rest of him felt relief that she hadn't been taken from him. Ginny slipped a gentle hand in his, giving him a delicate squeeze of reassurance. At least he and her were on the same page in their reactions to Hermione's revelations. Maybe the Chamber was changing them.

"It was still murder, and a brutal one at that," said Draco.

"You have no room to judge!" snapped Hermione, "I know you've been trying to send things to Dumbledore all year!"

"I have not!" Draco said, sticking his hands in his pockets and leaning forward with a sneer, "that'd be the stupidest idea anyone could possibly come up with. Trying to kill Albus Dumbledore."

"Well, we all know you lack brains, Malfoy." Ginny said, picking through her book bag to pull out Exploding Snap, "might as well just admit it."

Hermione glared at Draco, "I said you'd been sending him stuff. I never said a thing about killing the man."

Draco froze as the three Gryffindors stared at him. "You, you implied it!"

"Stop trying to save face, Malfoy. Hermione, could you open the door? I'm getting sick of standing in this water and the basilisk still smells." Ginny said.

"You... you aren't going to tell anyone?" Draco looked in disbelief between the three. By all rights they should be flying up to Dumbledore to rat him out.

The three of them shook their heads, "honestly, Draco, this is the Chamber of Secrets. Not the Chamber of Shout It From the Rooftop. I brought you down here to learn what you know and perhaps initiate you into this little group of friends so nothing that is revealed down here finds itself whispered into the wrong ears," said Hermione as she produced a dagger and slashed her palm, summoning the door from beneath the water.

"Wa–wait, you aren't going to torture me?" asked Draco, ignoring the fact that Granger has just used blood magic to summon a door in the Chamber of Secrets.

"Of course not. You're a human being and you're far too valuable to hurt. You're going to tell me what the Dark Lord is up to along with anything you hear from Greyback. Which reminds me... I need to write him back." Hermione stepped inside and sat down in one of the chairs. "Welcome to Slytherin's personal library. I'm sure he'd be pleased that someone of such pure blood and noble standing would grace his stacks."

Draco stared at the book lined shelves and warm fire that cast an orange glow over the room.

"Cozy isn't it?" Ginny asked as she and Harry sat down. Draco stood there, staring at the three of them like they'd grown extra heads. They might as well have, for all the sense they were making.

"Let's recap," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Granger is a full fledged werewolf who has murdered a man, which Potter and Weaselette are okay with. Potter and Weaselette are feeling akin to whatever is in this place, and it's making them dark and creepy. I'm supposed to give you information, Granger, so you don't kill me. Am I correct?"

Hermione smiled, "Very good! Welcome to the club! In return, I don't kill you, as you said. You gain some immunity from the three of us, so no more curses or verbal sparring, you tell us what you're up to and why you've been such a secretive little ferret. And we all sleep a tad bit better at night."

"You're recruiting me?" Draco whispered, thinking of how

"In a way. I mean, I don't expect that I'll be tattooing you any time soon. That's not the way I do things." Hermione took the deck of cards and began shuffling.

"And if I tell you nothing?"

"Well, I'm much more patient than the Dark Lord. I don't necessarily need pain to get you to tell me something and I really don't want to kill you, at the moment. I'll just expect that you'll decide on your own. I'm all about free will."

Harry kicked out the chair, "Now sit down, Malfoy. The professors will realize if we're gone too long and I'm keen on getting a game in."

Carefully, Draco took the chair and sat down, bewildered at the situation.

"Oh Malfoy, don't look so distraught. We don't bite," said Ginny.

"Hard." Hermione added, enjoying unsettling the ferret.

"I'll deal second," said Harry, taking up his cards. The four were silent while they went through the first round, Draco breaking the silence just after a card exploded, making them all jump.

"I thought you all were pro Dumbledore," he said as Harry began dealing another hand.

The Gryffindors all looked at one another before Hermione answered. "Dumbledore loves to manipulate us and his latest stunt with not letting me see my family has put him on my 'don't care about' list. Go ahead, kill him. But make it thorough please. No more cursed necklaces, poisoned wine, etc. Just kill the man."

Draco stared at Hermione. "You've gone Dark," he whispered in horror.

Hermione shrugged, "in my own fashion, I guess so."

Draco looked at Harry and Ginny, "and you two? Are you wanting to see Dumbledore dead?"

Harry and Ginny spent a long time in silent communication between one another before Ginny answered Draco.

"Dumbledore has always been a constant in my family," she began, "but he uses my Dad for information in the Ministry. Dad hero worships Dumbledore, but Dumbledore doesn't give anything back to compensate us directly for putting our necks out there. Sure, a peaceful wizarding world would be lovely. A place where people aren't judged by their blood or their choice in magic. But Dumbledore is just as manipulative as the worst of them. If you kill him, I want no part of it though."

Harry nodded in agreement, "I don't think killing the man is a good idea. But I'm so tired of being 'the Chosen One', all I want is to be left alone and out of the spotlight and he keeps dragging me around like a show dog. Numerous times he could have intervened and helped us out. Even now he plans on traveling and not telling me everything. Probably so I'll end up in some life threatening situation by the end of the year, like always."

Harry frowned as Hermione leaned forward and patted him on the hand.

"We'll be there for you, Harry," she said with a smile. The weak smile he returned brought Hermione no reassurance that he wouldn't be beating himself up over what could happen.

Ginny's stomach chose this moment to release a hungry growl, breaking the tension in the room. Even Draco looked relieved as the Gryffindor's relaxed.

"We should head to dinner. People will be suspicious if we don't show up," Hermione said after her last card suddenly exploded.

"The rest of Slytherin is probably wondering where I am," Draco said, much more at ease than he'd been an hour before.

"Shall we?" Ginny asked. The rest of them nodded, getting up and pushing their chairs back in. They made their way out of the chamber, levitating themselves up the slick entrance to the bathroom and begun cleaning themselves off.

"Draco," Hermione said as she attempted to tidy up her hair, "I have to ensure that you won't tell anyone what you've heard or what we've discussed today."

The blonde stopped casting drying charms over his feet and looked up at Hermione, nervousness tinged with fear once again apparent from the scent he gave off. "I can take a vow," he offered.

Hermione shook her head and pointed her wand at him, "I'm sorry, but that won't be enough. _Obliviate_."

Draco lost consciousness, slowly slipping onto the bathroom floor.

"Huh..." Harry said as Ginny propped Draco against the wall and slipped his wand back into his sleeve, "wasn't that a bit overkill, Hermione?"

"I don't think so, I just removed the last hour from his memory. I mean it's nice to know what his next task is and we all know I'm rooting for him for now obvious reasons. He does make a poor excuse for a Death Eater. Violent to be sure, but he barely put up a fight," said Hermione as she pocketed her wand.

"Because you threatened him," Ginny said.

Hermione shrugged, "I never really had any intentions of killing him. But messing with him is just too fun these days. Gives me something to look forward to in the mornings. I'll probably continue doing it for the rest of his life."

"Like a wolf messing with her prey," said Harry.

Hermione beamed at him."Exactly! Giving into my natural instincts is very rewarding." She pulled her book bag over her shoulder.

"Are you ever going to tell us how you killed a man?" Ginny asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"Are you two going to tell me exactly why you smell like the Dark Magic permeating the Chamber?" Hermione retorted.

"We're still trying to figure that one out ourselves," Harry said.

"Well, think on it and then we can have this discussion a bit more thoroughly," Hermione said as she made her way to the door, "come on, before Ron eats everything."

Ginny snorted at that and took Harry's hand, leading him behind Hermione and down to the hall.

Draco came to a few minutes later, hating the splitting headache in his head and groaning at the fact that Myrtle's toilet was beginning to flood which left him sitting in a large puddle of water. His memory came floating back as he brought down his Occlumency shields. Really, the Granger chit had underestimated him this time. She more than likely knew he was good at Occluding, but didn't know that he was capable of fighting off a memory charm.

He dried himself off then left the bathroom at a hurried pace towards the Owlery. He needed to get a letter to his father as quickly as possible. After all, there was dissention within Dumbledore's ranks and the Dark Lord would love that fact.


	8. Chapter 8

Apologies for the delay, life is full of… life. Special Thanks to Amortentia1992 for helping me with a couple scenes.

* * *

Kind of sort of Game of Thrones. But only the good stuff.

* * *

We're killing strangers We're killing strangers We're killing strangers, so we don't kill the ones that we Love We got guns, we got guns Motherfuckers better, better run

Marilyn Manson

* * *

Lucius Malfoy did not sprint, he did not scamper, he did not skip; he strode the way a proper pureblood should. The letter in his hand did encourage him to make his gate farther and his steps quicker, but he kept himself from reaching a full out run. Bubo bubo had taken a bit longer to get this letter from Draco into his hands. The poor owl found itself stuck in a nasty rainstorm between Scotland and Wiltshire on the return trip from Hogwarts.

Lucius' feet hit the marbled floor, leading him to the study that the Dark Lord currently occupied. Nearly breathless, he stood outside the door, composing himself and bringing his heart rate back to a resting beat. Lucius raised a pale fist and knocked on the door.

"Enter," said the cold voice of Lord Voldemort. Lucius opened the door to find his sister in law straightening her skirts. He raised a brow at her appearance making her stare daggers, daring him to speak ill of her.

Voldemort sat at his desk, commandeered from Lucius some months ago, and raised a glass of scotch in his hand to the lord of Malfoy Manor.

"Ah, Lucius. To what do I owe the pleasure? News from your son?" Voldemort took a sip of the scotch then set the crystal glass down, gesturing to Bellatrix to leave the room. The mad witch curtsied and left, closing the door behind her. Voldemort stood and went to the window, looking through the rain lashed glass and over the drenched garden.

"My Lord," Lucius said with a bow, "my son has sent me word of dissension within Dumbledore's ranks."

The Dark Lord stilled, increasing Lucius's heart rate and making his wand hand itch to put up a shield. Voldemort turned and looked at Lucius with a curious gaze.

"Did he identify the people who are less than pleased with his actions?" Voldemort said softly, his glowing eyes piercing the darkness. Lucius gripped the letter, sweat seeping through the parchment in his palm

"Yes, my Lord. Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley and Miss… Granger are quite disconcerted with Dumbledore's leadership. None more so than Miss Granger. She explicitly told Draco that she wants the headmaster dead after his interference with her family. Miss Weasley and Mr. Potter did not express the same concern but Draco says that they've changed. They feel that Dumbledore has been using them without proper recompense for their actions. That he is using them for his own agenda."

The Dark Lord shifted in his chair, the room darkening with magic that rolled off the man in waves. Lucius shivered a bit as he felt the tingle wash over him.

"Well done to the Malfoy family. Your son is a credit to your name," said Voldemort, "tell me, how did he learn this information?"

Lucius looked down at the letter in his hands, then back up at his Lord, "Draco learned it from the trio themselves. Miss Granger threw him into the Chamber of Secrets in an attempt to scare him. She spoke in Parseltongue; Draco believes Mr. Potter has been teaching her."

The Dark Lord was silent for a moment, making Lucius pray to Merlin that he wouldn't bear the brunt of his lord's wrath. After all, it wasn't his fault that the children had decided to make themselves comfortable in the Chamber of Secret.

Voldemort's lips curled into a terrifying smile, pale silver skin pulling back to reveal stained bone, and he began to laugh. "Lucius, your son will bring the Malfoy family back into my good graces if he keeps up this behavior."

Lucius bowed, his mussed blonde hair falling into his eyes and he silently thanked whatever deity that paid attention to him for once again sparing him any pain. He'd suffered enough at the end of Voldemort's wand and would crack if he ever felt the sear of the cruciatus applied by the Dark Lord again.

"Tell Draco that he has done well," the Dark Lord hissed, "and that he has my blessing to continue this relationship. In fact, he should be encouraging the three to defect. To have Potter turn on the old man would be a coup for our side. It will be so much easier to hunt him down that way."

Lucius looked up at his Lord and smiled, "I will tell him."

"Good, you are dismissed Lucius." The Dark Lord waved his hand towards the door.

Happy that everything was going so swimmingly, Lucius bowed again and walked to the door only to have the Dark Lord call after him.

"Oh, and Lucius, do send Bella back here. She and I have unfinished business."

Lucius kept the disgusted frown from forming on his face. The last image he wanted was of the Dark Lord fucking his sister in law over the desk he currently sat. "Yes, my Lord."

Lucius left the room, shutting the door behind him and walking down the hall. Bella was whispering to Rodolphus, the dark haired man leaning against the wall as he listened to his wife.

"Bella," Lucius called out, making her turn towards him, "our Lord has requested your presence."

The witch didn't have the grace to blush, she simply smirked at her husband and Lucius before sauntering down the hall. Lucius turned to Rodolphus and frowned, "how can you stand that?"

Rodolphus stood up straight, his lean figure nearly towering over Lucius, "makes her happy. I can fuck whomever I please and she gets her jollies. It's a sound arrangement between us."

Lucius nodded slowly, appalled at the free thinking of his Death Eater. If Narcissa even set a foot near another man with sexual intention, someone would die by Lucius' hands. That much was to be sure.

"How did your meeting go?" Rodolphus asked, snapping Lucius from his violent reverie.

"It went well. I must be off though. Draco will need a reply." Lucius said, tapping his cane against the ground. Rodolphus bowed to him, moving away so the Lord of the Manor could find Bubo Bubo to get in contact with his son.

Lucius disappeared down the hall leaving Rodolphus to consider his options for the night. If Greyback and Dolohov were available, perhaps he would tag along on one of their outings. After all, he did love a good brothel.

* * *

"We're seriously sneaking out through Dumbledore's floo?" Ginny asked for the thousandth time, making Hermione groan. She paused in her warding of Dumbledore's door and looked at the girl.

"Professor Snape made it perfectly clear what the schedule of events were going to be. Dumbledore left this morning for business and Professor Snape is out patrolling the dungeons right now," Hermione snapped, slashing her wand down in a final movement that made the office door glow golden, "he practically gave me the information on a silver platter."

Harry thought it was suspicious that Snape told Hermione the schedule of when Dumbledore was leaving and gaining access to headmaster's study was too easy, as far as getting caught went. It had taken the three of them the better part of an hour to gently dismantle the wards in order to not alert anyone to their presence. Harry looked down at the map in his hands. The little black dot the represented the potions professor wandered methodically through the dungeons, checking in empty classrooms before moving back into the corridor before making its way up to the main staircase.

"We need to move, and now!" Hermione grabbed the Invisibility Cloak from Ginny's hands and threw it over her shoulders. "You don't have to come if you don't want to, but I need to find out what is going on with my parents."

"Hermione, I'm not questioning your actions. We're in this together. I just, how do you plan on getting there?" Ginny asked as her friend grabbed a can of floo powder off the mantle and held it out to her.

"I called in a favor from Percy about a year ago. I wanted to make sure that I could get a hold of my parents. He quietly had the floo connected from my parents to Dumbledore's office. I was only to use it in case of an emergency." Hermione said.

"I'm impressed that he did that for you," said Harry as he scooped up a bit of the powder and held it in his palm.

"He was always such a ponce. How did you manage to get him to do that?" asked Ginny, her brows raised in surprise.

Hermione shrugged, "I passed notes between him and Penelope Clearwater for awhile. I also may have blackmailed him a bit. I caught them in a precarious position in a broom closet. Percy begged me to not tell your Mum. I said he owed me and that I was surprised a headboy could be so… vulgar. He does seem to have a bit of a healthy sexual appetite. For a young girl it was quite a shock to witness on accident though..."

Ginny, now a beet red, raised her hand, "stop. Stop, I'm begging you. I don't need to know. Blech…"

Hermione grinned at her, "I mean, you've probably heard of pegging..."

"OH MY GOD, HERMIONE!" shouted Harry before lowering his voice to a whisper. Ginny was now visibly gagging over a vase next to the fireplace and Harry was a sickly shade of pale green.

Hermione brushed her hair behind her ears and sniffed, "yes, well… you did ask." Her attention turned back onto the fire. Tossing the floo powder onto the fire, she clearly stated "Granger Residence," then stepped into the green flames.

The floo trip was a bit shaky, compared to the normal nausea induced ones, and Hermione landed smack on her arse in a cloud of ash that took forever to dissipate. By the time the cloud and her lungs began to clear, Ginny and Harry had followed her. Wiping the soot from her clothing, Hermione stood and looked around.

It was her home but it was devoid of any human habitation except one. The fading scent of her parents and magic.

"What the hell?" asked Ginny as Hermione walked forward with a hammering heart, going upstairs to find even her room empty.

"My parents are gone," she whispered, looking at her room. The light footfalls of Harry echoed on the steps and soon he was behind her.

"What has he done?" Harry whispered in fear. Hermione could feel herself vibrating in fury, the tears dripping down her face.

What started as a scream of rage turned into a vocal chord ripping howl, starting at the base of her throat before filling the room and rending through the night air. Hermione slashed at the wall, her claws bursting forward to tear at the flower printed wallpaper. Harry began backing out slowly, watching as his best friend tore through the room and then pushed past him, swearing bloody oaths against the Dumbledore. The old wizard wouldn't likely be surviving the week at this rate.

* * *

Fenrir heard her just before he smelled her sweet scent permeating the air. The screams of frustration making his heart stop. So she discovered what the Order had done to protect her parents. The sound of glass breaking in the kitchen followed by screams and voices pleading with the girl made him quicken his pace towards the house.

Weeks had gone by without a peep from the home and Fenrir began to think his monitoring of the house was useless. His friends, while clapping him on the back and encouraging his habit, stayed away now. Sitting out on the streets outside the Granger's household was no longer entertaining to the other Death Eaters.

Still, Fenrir would need reinforcements, especially if the she-wolf brought Potter along. When the sound of Hermione's screams began to combine with sobbing, he picked up his pace, pressing his wand into the mark on his forearm. He knew Antonin would come but he was unsure if the Dark Lord would make an appearance. It would be his hide after all if Potter escaped.

Fenrir didn't give a damn about Potter though. The closer he got to the scent of Granger, the harder he became. Sod Potter, Fenrir was going to grab his she wolf. Screw waiting until the end of the school year, however close that may be. He wanted her now!

A wave of his wand cloaked his scent and he opened the door to a horrifying sight.

One Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley were trying their best to control a hysterical half transformed Hermione Granger. The French doors that previously occupied the wall between the living room and the kitchen were torn off their hinges, glass shattered everywhere.

"I'm going to fucking kill Albus Dumbledore!" She snarled, pulling down the drywall.

"Hermione, you have to let us heal your cuts," said Harry as he gingerly picked his way towards Hermione, glass crunching under his trainers. Hermione looked at the boy, her lips curled back into a snarl, fangs coming to a point in a ferocious sneer. Her eyes were white, her pupils dilated as she took in her friends.

"They'll fucking heal on their own, Harry!" She bit out, spittle flying from her mouth.

"We're just trying to help you." Ginny whimpered, "the neighbors may have heard and could be coming to check any moment."

"Let them come," Hermione growled, "they were all swots anyways. A bunch of false do-gooders."

Ginny sighed as Hermione began to destroy the kitchen and turned towards the front door.

Her mouth opened in shriek as a spell left her wand heading right for him. Fenrir conjured a protego and the purple light easily bounced off the shield.

It was amazing to watch Weasley and Potter move to form a single unit in front of Hermione who was just now noticing that she had some less savory company.

"Stay the fuck away from her, Greyback," said Harry as he pointed his wand towards the man with glowing white eyes. "Come any closer and I will kill you."

"Looks like Saint Potter has decided to lower himself to our level. How sweet..." The whispered voice of Bellatrix Lestrange filled the air, and Fenrir knew that assistance had arrived. Black shadows flitted past the windows before shattering the glass. One by one each shadow formed into a Death Eater; Bellatrix, Dolohov, Lucius, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange stood in the once charming living room staring at the damage the trio stood in.

"You fucker," Hermione growled, slowly coming out of the kitchen with blood dripping off her hands as she pointed at Fenrir, "this is all your fucking fault. If you hadn't bitten me then Dumbledore would never have done what he did."

Fenrir didn't back down, instead he began to walk forward, the others parting so he could come closer to the female. Gods, she looked beautiful, even if her face was tear stained and her hair now a wild mess of curls. A disgusting feeling of wanting to cradle her and wipe the salt water from her cheeks crept up on him. He was stronger than some romantic sap. He needed to focus and calm the girl though or there was going to be a fight.

"Dumbledore made this decision," Fenrir said softly, "I had nothing to do with this."

"Where are they?" Hermione whispered when she moved towards the mantle, swatting away the hand that Ginny used to try and hold her back.

"Dumbledore had their memories modified and moved them! Somewhere far far away. Where their ickle daughter can't reach them. You'll never find them Granger. But we can help you. You just have to make the right choice," Bellatrix sang making Fenrir close his eyes and sigh in annoyance.

"I didn't ask you, Lestrange," snapped Hermione, slamming her hand onto the mantle before gripping the crown molding hard enough to make it click. Harry's eyes snapped over to where Hermione was pulling down the mantle to reveal a hidden compartment that the Death Eaters couldn't quite see from where they were standing.

"You dare speak to my wife that way?!" Rodolphus demanded, brandishing his wand.

Hermione ignored him, her eyes remaining on Greyback as she gripped the small pistol her father purchased after he installed his 'Prohibition Style Gun Concealer' as she liked to call it. Grateful that this hadn't been picked over by whatever wizards had cleared the house, Hermione slid the action back, letting the one bullet she knew her father kept in the magazine land into place and leveled the gun at Fenrir. The glare she pierced the werewolf with was frigid. Fenrir stared at her, silently imploring her to put the gun down, knowing that she was half mad with the information Bellatrix imparted on her.

"Hermione," Harry said lowly as he crept forward to the girl, "are you sure you want to do that?"

"What exactly were you planning on doing with that, Miss Granger? Throw it at someone?" Lucius Malfoy asked, tapping his cane on the floor.

"As if a silly muggle piece of metal can do anything!" Bellatrix shrieked with laughter. Hermione pointed the gun towards her, deciding that the bitch could go instead of Fenrir. It would be poetic justice if she died by a muggle weapon.

"Never underestimate the power of muggle weaponry," said Hermione before she pulled the trigger, the bullet shooting across the room and grazing Bellatrix's shoulder just as shield charms were erected. The insane witch screamed bloody murder as her husband and brother-in-law moved to protect her.

Chaos erupted as Ginny tossed down some Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder and grabbed Harry and Hermione by their shirts. "Move!" she shouted, dragging them back into the kitchen as the black cloud erupted around them. Out the backdoor they went, the magic of their defensive spells breaking the stasis charm on the back yard with a loud BOOM! The three of them hopped the fence and ran towards public park that bordered Hermione's neighborhood.

Fenrir saw his chance to grab the girl slipping away and followed her scent through the smoke, cancelling his own anti scent spell. Malfoy and Dolohov were right behind him as he sprinted through the smoke. Their stunners barely missed the teenagers as they scaled the fence before disappearing on the other side. Snarling, Fenrir pushed himself to move faster. His she-wolf wanted a chase, did she? He was certainly game for a hunt. She was after all, delectable prey.

Fenrir launched himself over the fence, barely gripping the top before he landed on the roadway. The scents of the trio broke off from one another. The Weasley girl following Potter to the main roadway and Hermione's scent going into the brush.

"My lucky day," he whispered, taking off after the floral scent. The branches scraped at his arms and face but he barely noticed them.

Like his ancestors, Fenrir chased after his future mate, intent on claiming her among the dirt and leaves. His wolf was howling in delight as primal urges filled his mind. He hoped she would fight him, draw blood and rip at his flesh. How he hadn't seen her fierceness sooner was beyond him. Her ability to survive in horrid conditions at Nathair Tower, her threatening Draco Malfoy with his life; she was like the goddesses of old. Fenrir grinned, she would bear strong pups and bring honor to his family.

Coming to a small clearing beneath the thick trees, he stopped. Her scent was strong here, as if she were lying in wait. "Come out she-wolf. Come out and play with me," said Fenrir as he opened his arms, slowly spinning beneath the trees.

There was a long pause, then..."You don't even call me by my given name. What right do you have to even address me in any fashion?" Her voice echoed through the branches, coming at him from all angles. She was a clever thing, attempting to confuse him.

"You belong with me. You survived my bite and the turn. I claim you as mine." Fenrir said with a growl.

"I'm not property, Greyback. I'm a human being," she snapped. The branches above him rattled as if in irritation.

"You are so much more than that, she-wolf. If you come down I promise I'll be gentle." He grinned into the dark.

"No you won't," she said, "I can smell you. Your bloodlust nearly outweighs the hardness of your cock. I can smell both, you know." He heard her sniff in disdain and laughed.

"I can smell you as well, Granger. Flowers on a summer day before rain. Poetic isn't it? I can smell your curiosity and your fear. It's like honey, almost cloyingly sweet. Come down. Let's taste that, shall we?" He was almost laughing at the silent irritation hanging heavy in the air.

Hermione rested her head against the bark, glaring down at the man, no, beast. She did want to go down there, just to see if he was being honest or not. It had nothing to do with the scent of his arousal, or the way he moved slowly, every muscle of his body ready to spring into action. Cursing her wolf and its primitive nature, she growled. "You'll hurt me and turn me into Voldemort for questioning as soon as I set foot on the ground. He would keep me in a cell until I died. Or one of his minions murdered me."

Fenrir shook his head, "you would be an honored guest of his. He has so many questions to ask you."

"He can take his questions and shove it. And you never denied that you would hurt me." Hermione snapped, her grip on the branch making the wood crack.

Fenrir ran a hand through his hair, exasperated at the witch, "hurt is relative. You would probably like what I plan to do to you."

"You know nothing about me." Hermione whispered in horror.

"Shall I give you a primer? I'll tell you now, Granger, when you finally come around, I plan on laying you out on the ground and feasting on your body. I'll nibble on your cunt before licking the wounds away, I'll suck on your tits, knowing that someday they will feed our bairns. Then when you're good and wet I'll plunge my cock into you, shattering your virginity and claiming you as mine. I'll sink my fangs into your shoulder, marking you as my mate. Mine and mine alone. I hope you'll draw blood from me, take those sharp claws of yours and dig into my back as I come inside you, howling with completion—,"

"Stop," Hermione snarled dangerously. A growl bubbled low in her throat not quite making a sound. She held back the shiver of pleasure that his words provided her, cursing her wolf at the point. The wolf inside her was weakening her resolve, excited by the vulgarity Greyback promised and curiosity trumping over her fear and hatred of the beast below. She needed to keep her strength and her wits about her lest she fall prey to his predator, though even as she thought it, she felt her wolf bristle with anticipation.

"Of course, you'll get off 'round my cock. I do enjoy a fluttering pussy," he continued, ignoring her command, able to smell her increasing desire.

"I said stop!" Hermione jumped down through the branches, landing in front of Fenrir with her wand pointed at him. He flashed a brilliant white smile at her, ignoring the wand tip pressed so hard into his skin it would probably bruise.

"There you are," he said softly, reaching out to touch one of her curls.

"You don't get to touch me without my permission," she growled, backing away from him. He moved a step forward and sniffed the air.

"Oh, Granger," he whispered as she backed up another step. The cat and mouse game continued until she was backed against a trunk of a tree, her hands held out in front of her to push him away if he got an inch too close. "I can already smell your permission. Your knickers are soaked for me. Your wolf wants mine. Don't deny it. Put the wand down."

Hermione sucked in a breath as Fenrir took her hands in his, removing the wand while she protested and slipping it into her pocket. His hands were surprisingly warm and calloused; and very gentle as he examined her palms and fingers.

"The hands of the brightest witch of her age. I wonder how many tomes you've caressed with these fingers?" He laced his fingers with hers, stepping closer so that their breath intermingled.

Hermione's heart beat an odd tattoo against her ribs and she was sure she was having a difficult time breathing, much less holding her own against him, she was panting after all.

"Give me permission, Hermione. Tell me yes." Fenrir whispered, his beard tickling her nose. She scrunched her face to get rid of the sensation and looked up at the werewolf. His eyes were white, face more mature than any other she considered attractive in the past, and his lips were quirked up in a smile; one that looked kind. Hermione blinked in surprise and took a deep breath, giving in to her wolf.

"If I tell you to stop, you stop," she said sighed softly.

"Good enough," Fenrir murmured before he lowered his lips to hers. Like his hands, his lips were warm. Unlike his hand, his lips were soft as they caressed over hers.

Hermione wanted to weep at the satisfaction she felt. Emotions she never associated with her wolf bubbled to the surface, threatening to spill over. Being the brave one, she slipped her tongue out to caress Fenrir's lower lip, seeking entrance which he granted with a groan. His hands brought hers to rest on his chest before he slid them into her hair. Their tongues entwined and Hermione felt like howling in triumph. Fenrir tasted like hope, safety, and home. She could only wish for her friends to feel this good in life.

Her friends… she had to get back to her friends. If they were successful, they were back on Hogwarts grounds by now, courtesy of the Knight bus.

"Stop… stop," Hermione murmured, reluctantly breaking the kiss. "I have to go back to Hogwarts."

Fenrir growled and pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, "no you don't. I could hire a tutor. Whatever you wanted."

Hermione shook her head, "my friends need me. I need to protect them." Fenrir growled at that.

"Am I not good enough?" He spat.

Hermione's brow rose and she gave him that look. The ones that wives reserved for errant spouses. "You cannot be serious. After everything you've done to land me in this you have to earn me, Fenrir Greyback! This isn't a rejection! Merlin, it's a bloody invitation, you child eater!" She poked him in the stomach.

"I'm not letting you go." He growled, ignoring her name calling and grasping her hand in his, "I've just found you."

"That's very sweet, but I really do need to go." Hermione moved to pull away but Fenrir kept his grip firm. She let her arms drop to her sides, keeping his attention on her face while she inched her wand out from her pocket.

With a sigh, Hermione's shoulders slumped and she looked into the werewolf's eyes, "I'm very sorry, Fenrir," Hermione said as she pressed her wand into his side, "stupefy."

He went down like a sack of rocks. Hermione levitated his body and propped him up against the tree trunk. She pressed a kiss to his forehead and whispered another apology before apparating away.

* * *

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!" Remus Lupin practically screamed at Harry and Ginny who were rightfully cowering in fear by the fireplace of Snape's office. Their favorite former Defense Professor's eyes were glowing gold. Something they hadn't ever seen. Severus Snape leaned against his desk, nonchalantly watching his old enemy rip the boy into verbal pieces. This had proved to be an entertaining evening.

"We were trying to figure out what Dumbledore did to Hermione's family! Clearly the lot of you were in on it!" Ginny said, her voice coming out a lot stronger than her appearance dictated.

"In on what?!" Cried Lupin.

"The modification of my parents memories and their removal from what I'm suspecting is Great Britain." Hermione said as she shut the door to Snape's office behind her. Remus sagged in relief and Severus moved to a cabinet, pulling out some glasses and a bottle of Ogden's Finest.

"Oh, Hermione! Thank Merlin you're alright!" Ginny exclaimed as she rushed to her friend, enveloping her in a hug, "did he hurt you?"

Hermione shook her head, "no, he didn't hurt me. We talked…"

"He kissed you!" Lupin growled, "I can smell him from here! And what the bloody hell do you mean the modification of the Granger's memories!"

Hermione actually had the grace to blush as she recalled the kiss but it could easily pass off as fury at the fact that she had no idea where her parents were.

"Remus, she means that Dumbledore called a meeting with the Order and sent someone to cut Hermione's family off from her," snapped Harry as he rubbed the bridge of his nose, "how do you not know about this?"

"Perhaps our Headmaster has decided to keep certain… races out of the loop," Professor Snape murmured as he handed Hermione a glass of whiskey. She took it gratefully, swallowing a large gulp before coughing.

"Take it easy with the drink Miss Granger. It's not the swill you drink at The Three Broomsticks," Professor Snape said, "the rest of you can pour your own glasses."

"He can't do that!" Harry exclaimed, thoroughly disgusted, "Professor Dumbledore is supposed to be about equality. He wouldn't do something like that!"

"Harry," Hermione said as she went and began pouring glasses for the rest of the room's occupants, "of course he would! Look at what he did to my parents! Look at what he's done to you! He left you with the Dursleys! He's a manipulative old fucker!" Hermione shoved the whiskey into her friend's hands.

Ginny and Harry both looked down and Hermione could clearly tell that they were recalling the conversation they had with Draco a few days before. They would have to reconsider their stance on the Headmaster with this new information.

"I'm surprised that you feel this way, Hermione," Remus said, not touching his glass.

"I've stopped seeing things through rose colored lenses," Hermione said, sipping at her drink, "it's ridiculous. He's clearly worried that you're going to fall in with me so he did what he thought was right."

Remus finally took a sip of his whiskey, not commenting on how it made him feel to be excluded from something that the rest of the Order knew about. Tonks had been suspiciously quiet the last couple weeks, and the way she kept watching him out of the corner of her eye made him uneasy. For someone that claimed to accept him as a werewolf, she hadn't shown a lot of trust.

"Did you know, Snape?" He finally asked, staring at the potions master with piercing eyes.

"I did. I voiced my opinion that it was a terrible idea. No one listened. They were all concerned with Hermione possibly murdering her parents. I knew she had better control than that."

Hermione raised her glass in Professor Snape's direction and nodded. "Pack matters."

"You two seem awfully comfortable around one another. Care to share?" Remus grumbled. Ginny and Harry shifted awkwardly, looking between their two friends and their teacher with confusion. Professor Snape did seem at ease with Hermione and it was extending to their small group as a whole. It was weird.

"We've come to an understanding during the last few months. It's nothing to concern yourself with, Lupin." Snape sneered. Harry sighed, relieved to see some of his Professor's normal behavior returning.

"I'd like to know about Hermione kissing Greyback," said Ginny before she downed her glass of whiskey in one gulp and licked her lips. Harry looked horrified at his girlfriend as she shrugged and said 'brothers,' before looking at Hermione expectantly. "So, Hermione. What brought that on? I thought you hated the guy."

"I do hate him," said Hermione, "I did it to get away."

Remus released a bark of dark laughter, "using your wolfish wiles to distract him?"

Hermione blushed. Of course saying that it was simply to catch him off guard would be a good enough excuse for her friends. She had to be honest with herself though. Her curiosity, her wolf, the way Fenrir smelled, and what his voice did to her made it hard to not at least touch him. She was stunned at her willpower.

"I'm surprised he didn't apparate you away the moment he touched you," Remus said, "he is very… possessive."

Hermione nodded, choosing to remain silent as she sipped her drink. Soon the alcohol was gone and Professor Snape was staring at everyone with dark eyes.

"I trust that you will all be more careful next time you go for a late night jaunt off school grounds. I also hope that you will have some discretion in mentioning this evening to your friends. Lastly, detention for the three of you tomorrow night in the dungeon. You'll be cleaning cauldrons." Professor Snape smiled, vanishing the glasses.

"But, Professor!" exclaimed Ginny.

"You were caught off grounds by a former teacher, Miss Weasley, after curfew. What did you expect to happen? Now get out." Snape dismissed them with a fluttering of dark robes, staring at each of them as they filed in the corridor then had the door shut behind them. Remus turned to the three and glared.

"Hermione, you may be an alpha, but you are still a student here. Do not go looking for trouble again!" He snapped.

"What about my parents?" Hermione growled back at the man, making him step away.

He paused for a moment, and then "I'll find out what I can," before he turned and disappeared down the dark hall.

"Well shite," said Harry as he shoved his hands into his pockets, "I didn't much fancy detention with Snape."

"Me either," sighed Ginny.

"It won't be so bad," said Hermione, "let's go to bed." The three Gryffindors tromped up the stairs, ignoring the grumbling paintings, and made their way into the tower. It was only when Hermione was in bed that she let herself think of Fenrir Greyback and the way his lips felt against hers. Oh, she was in big trouble.


	9. Chapter 9

Mmmm… we're looking at some Bolton-ish torture here. Not too bad, though. Carry on.

* * *

Spellbound I am, I am

The wizard has enchanted me, enchanted me

Spellbound deep in my soul, in my soul

In my heart burns a sizzling fire, a sizzling fire

Spellbound I am, I am

The wizard has enchanted me, enchanted me

Spellbound in my heart's root, my heart's root

My eyes gaze to where the wizard stood

Eivør

* * *

She hoped each bite that went into his mouth would be his last. Wizards didn't choke though, at least not often. A simple wadiwasi-ex would get rid of the offending food and Professor Dumbledore wouldn't go down so easily. Hermione looked down at her plate as the Headmaster stood up, bid Minerva a good evening and made his way towards the Gryffindor table.

She knew he was standing in front of her, waiting for acknowledgment. She knew better than to be a brat and ignore him. He was, in a sense, an alpha at the school.

Hermione's head shot up and she saw that the old man didn't hold much of a twinkle in his eyes. Neutrality of expression was key as Hermione held her gaze on the headmaster's face.

"Ah, Miss Granger. How are you this fine evening?" Professor Dumbledore asked, pulling a packet of lemon drops from his pocket, offering the candy to Harry and Ginny, and as if in afterthought paused to hold the bag out to Hermione who shook her head before he pocketed the sweets. Hermione refrained from gagging at the citrus and sugar scent.

"I'm quite well, Professor. How are you?" Hermione responded. _'I hope you die in your sleep tonight,'_ she thought, gripping her fork in her hands beneath the table.

"Ah, I find that I've become a tired old man. Too much worry, I suppose." He turned to the black haired boy next to her, "Harry, I hope that you have remembered the conversation we had the other day."

Harry looked surprised but nodded, "I have, sir."

Dumbledore twinkled at the boy and Hermione narrowed her eyes, "Good, well then I must bid you three a goodnight." The headmaster bowed then left the Great Hall in a swirl of magenta robes with Hermione staring after him before she rounded on Harry.

"What conversation?" She asked.

Harry picked at his food, pushing the mashed potatoes around his plate. "I'm meeting him tonight, I think we're going to look for a you-know-what. Because that's what I need right now… to potentially injure myself or die because that will help everyone."

"Merlin, I hate him," Hermione muttered, bringing her hands back onto the table "manipulative old man!"

"Mione!" Ron exclaimed, not hearing what she said but noticing the fork in her hands was now bent and twisted into a useless shape, "what are you doing?"

Hermione looked down at the fork and then back up at Ron. He was alone on the other end of the table, completely Lavender-less.

"Uhm… practicing?" Ron's ears went red. Hermione shoved the fork in her bag, turning to Harry and Ginny, "I'm going to go and study. I'll see you later. Goodluck tonight, Harry."

Harry nodded, though his face appeared ashen as he thought of the meeting he was to have with Dumbledore. The offered lemondrops were only a reminder from Professor Dumbledore to be on time. "Bye, Hermione."

"I'll be up in a bit, Hermione. Maybe we can study together."

"That would be nice, Ginny." Hermione turned, her hair flying about like each strand had a life of it's own, and stalked out of the Great Hall.

It was Dumbledore's fault that she felt like this. Well, Dumbledore and Greyback's fault. Between the two of them she was a cauldron of emotions. Every night, she went to bed angry, thinking of the loss of her parents and Dumbledore's involvement. Mornings were nearly worse; waking up in a sweat after dreaming of a possessive werewolf was a huge distraction that lasted throughout the day. She couldn't eat enough, and certainly couldn't concentrate on her studies because all she thought about were the promises he made. He probably wouldn't be keeping them though, after the stunt she pulled.

Soon enough though, the Alpha would be coming for her, either to mete out punishment or bring her into the pack, or worse. Hermione shuddered at the thought of being surrounded by Death Eaters, torturing for whatever transgressions they believed she'd done. Malfoy would probably watch too, laughing the entire time while she endured Merlin only knew what.

Footsteps came up behind her as she paused on the first floor landing. Shutting her eyes with a groan, she inhaled the scent that she knew so well; broom polish, grass, and Lavender Brown's god awful perfume.

"Mione?" Ron asked softly, "can we talk?"

Hermione looked ahead, nodding after a moment and turned to face Ron.

"What do you want to say?"

Ron shuffled for a moment, "I just… I'm sorry. I'm an arse. I haven't been there for you during this time and it's probably been difficult. I'm sorry, Mione."

Hermione stared at him, startling the boy when her eyes flashed white for a moment before sinking back into their natural brown. "Let's walk," she said, turning away from him and going down the hall to the first floor girls bathroom.

"Um… alright." Ron walked next to her, "do you want to find somewhere to sit?"

Hermione glanced at him, flashing a smile his way, "no, we're going to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom."

Ron groaned, "really? I've spent enough time there to last a lifetime." The redhead slowed his pace, "is our conversation going to be _that_ private?"

Hermione stopped and looked at him, "unless you want to have it out in the middle of the corridor where everyone can hear… then yes, it is going to be that private."

Ron huffed, "Fine." Hermione beamed and led the way to the toilet.

Luckily Myrtle wasn't there flooding the place, making it easy for Hermione to talk to Ron. She cast a muffliato and a notice me not spell then pivoted to face Ron as soon as the door shut.

"So, you've apologized for being a prat," she snapped, "why? Why this sudden change of heart?"

"Because you look like shite! I see Harry and Ginny trying to support you, but it isn't enough, is it? You're one of _them_ and it makes you sick." Ron snapped back, "Mione, let me help you. I'm an arse. A complete and unmitigated arse, but I still want to be your friend."

Hermione glared up at him, eyes glistening with tears, "where were you when I changed? Where were you when I found out that I'm an Alpha and fucking Greyback's mate? Where were you when Dumbledore decided to make my parents disappear?"

"Hang on, mate? Dumbledore did what?" Ron reached a hand out to her shoulder only to have Hermione shrug away from his touch.

"Yes. Mate. As in, wizards don't properly study or even work with werewolves to find out the actual workings of their culture. I could have _died_ , Ron Weasley, on my first change. But I didn't. Now I'm bound by pure instinct to a man who eats children. And yes! Dumbledore! My parents are… somewhere that he deems safe because he's worried about me eating them. But I have complete control over myself! So if I seem a little off, that should explain it!" Hermione shook in her fury.

Ron spent a few seconds doing a very good impression of a goldfish starved for water before he actually said something. "Mione, I'm… gods. I'm sorry. Did Dumbledore really do that?"

Hermione, now openly crying in frustration, nodded, "yes, and he's been treating me like a second rate citizen. Or a child that doesn't know which end is up. He _hates_ me."

"Is it because you're a werewolf?" Ron whispered, reaching out again to touch Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione was silent for a moment, looking past Ron and into the bathroom mirrors. She did look a bit like shite, her hair was in a tangled mess, bags under her eyes. Merlin, she looked a bit like Remus."It's… I think it's complicated but yes." She wasn't about to tell him what she'd done. His sudden interest in her was suspicious but if he were being genuine, then she would be ruining everything by telling him that she was indeed, a murderer.

Ron engulfed her in a hug, "I'm on your side, Mione. Even if you don't tell me everything."

Hermione snorted into his shoulder, "what about Lavender? Still keen on her?"

Ron's lips curved into a smile, "Are you jealous, Granger?" Hermione pushed him away and shook her head.

"Like I'd ever be jealous of her. Take her. She's yours. Just… get her to stop going on and on about your shagging exploits with Pavarti. It's nauseating."

"You sound like Ginny."

"Well, she is one of my best friends." Hermione tucked a curl behind her ear.

"Am I still one of your best friends?" Ron asked, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. Hermione looked at the floor. He could be, but he had to earn her trust again. She couldn't even fathom his reaction if he knew that she, Ginny, and Harry were spending time in the Chambers that were a few stories beneath where she was currently standing. He would probably blow a gasket. It would be even worse if he knew that somehow they were all being influenced by the Dark.

Though, if he did prove to be a true friend, maybe at some point he would see where they were coming from and maybe even join them in translating Salazar's library. Though Ron would probably follow Ginny's lead and enjoy hacking at the basilisk with the swords Pip had provided.

Hermione looked back up at Ron,"you've got a bit of time to work off to get back in that boat, Ron. But I'll let you have the opportunity."

Ron beamed, engulfing Hermione in a warm hug, "I'll do my best, Mione." Hermione smiled then inhaled his scent and started coughing.

"What?" Ron asked, askance. Hermione stepped away, waving her hand in front of her face.

"You really need to get Lavender to stop wearing that perfume. It's so pungent it makes me want to vomit. Drives Remus mad too but he's too polite to say anything." Hermione said, coughing for clean air.

"It's her favorite, though," the redhead protested.

"I'll put the money up for you to get something more refined. Maybe even a muggle perfume because that wizarding one is foul." Hermione went to a sink, turned the tap on and splashed water on her face. "Better. Shall we go to the common room?"

Ron nodded, hefted his satchel over his shoulder and followed Hermione out of the bathroom.

"Wait… Mione. What do we do about your little… mate problem?" He whispered. Hermione's eyes nearly popped out of her head.

"Shh! There's nothing to be done for it. Trust me." Hermione turned away, looking around to see if anyone else was in the corridor. They had gotten lucky this time, "c'mon. Let's get some studying done."

Ron followed after Hermione, wondering what exactly she wasn't telling him.

* * *

"I can't believe you, Granger. You were alone with Ron. I thought better of you than that," Lavender snapped, flinging her blonde hair back over her shoulder, "I never thought you'd be such a whore. Trying to go after another woman's man."

The chit had been ranting for the last twenty minutes, while Ron looked on with red ears. Oh, he'd tried to calm Lavender down with reason but it wasn't happening. Hermione, despite the thin thread of patience that she tried to wrap herself in, wasn't having any of it. She kept one eyebrow raised in surprise as she looked at the ranting witch, waiting for her to exhaust herself by spouting false accusations.

Finally, red in the face, Lavender paused before she spoke again, "do you have anything to say for yourself?!"

Hermione shook her head, "no. I think you should trust Ron though. He obviously cares about you and you shut him down when he tried to tell you what happened. You didn't listen and instead continued to attack me. Now you've got to mend that bridge with him."

Picking up her book bag with a huff, Hermione stalked out of the room and to the library. There was still an hour before curfew and if she actually got some studying in without unnecessary interruption from her housemates, she would be stunned. The library was deserted with the exception of a few Ravenclaws studying near the restricted section. Hermione made her way to the back of the library, sitting down at the table and began to pull her notes from the bag.

Lavender was the classic hormone driven teenaged girl; quick to assume, territorial, easily upset, and vicious when it came to taking people down a peg. Too bad she was in the wrong. The more Hermione thought about the girl's behavior regarding Ron, the more Hermione thought about Fenrir.

" _Am I like her? Merlin, please don't let me be like her. I can't be. I don't like Fenrir."_ The Wolf inside her protested, practically snapping it's annoyance. _"I can't like him, the only things I know about him are that he is… he's… a child eater. He's incredibly good looking. But he eats people. So do you though. Well, one time. It was necessary though. You're alive. Merlin though… he's also a good kisser. I still can't believe I kissed him. He also offered to find a private tutor for me. That was kind of him. He was gentle with me but the things he said."_ Hermione shivered, crossing her legs and doing her best to focus on her revising.

Thudding footsteps echoed off the stacks to the right, making Hermione look up to see Ron. "Did Lavender apologize?" She asked as she set down her ink and quills.

Ron shuffled his feet, "No, she's miffed. She's even more miffed that I came after you," he said with a sigh as he sat down across from her.

Hermione tore her attention away from her transfiguration notes and raised a brow at the redhead. "Don't you love her?"

"Well, yeah. I love her but I'm trying to mend bridges and I feel awful for how she flew off the handle like that." Ron looked down, "neither of us have been very nice to you."

Shaking her head, "Ron, you need to go upstairs and… try to get her to see that we aren't anything more than friends. She's going to be more than miffed if you stay here any longer. I wish I–OW!" Hermione reached down into her pocket and pulled out a burning coin.

' _Death Eaters in the castle. We're up at the Astronomy Tower. -H'_

"Shite," Hermione said, slamming her hands down onto the table and reaching forward to gather her things back into the satchel. She stood up abruptly, nearly knocking back her chair.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked, standing up to go with Hermione. She paused in her mid-stride and looked at him then shoved the satchel into his hands.

"Stay here. Really… just stay here." Hermione patted him on the shoulder, doing her best to not have a melt down in front of Ron, "I'll be right back." She hurried out of the library, leaving Ron and one charmed galleon on the table behind her.

The corridors became a blur of portraits, stone, and tapestry as Hermione rushed up to the seventh floor. This was not what she needed right now. Once she was closer to the Astronomy Tower, she slowed, casting a Notice-Me-Not charm over her head, muffling her footsteps, and masking her scent. She seriously hoped that neither Fenrir or Bellatrix were there that evening. Or Dolohov… gods, she hadn't considered him as an issue either until this point. He'd tried to kill her last year and she'd been so pissed at Dumbledore that she didn't notice him last time she and her friends encountered the Death Eaters.

She was stronger though and certainly smarter when it came to wielding a wand than when she was at the Battle at the Department of Mysteries. Hermione tightened her grip on the wooden handle of her wand and took a deep breath. She could smell Harry, the lemon drop scent of Professor Dumbledore, and the faint smell of decay.

The rest though… she couldn't smell the Death Eaters, bringing her to the conclusion that Fenrir was with them and waiting for her. She huffed at the trap set and slowly opened the door to the Astronomy Tower.

"Do it, Draco! Now!" Bellatrix shrieked. Panic filled Hermione as she ran her way up the steps and onto the tower. She could smell Harry beneath the astronomy platform and changed her direction, slinking beneath the metal mesh to watch what was happening above. Dumbledore was there, backed against the low stone wall while Draco held his wand out in front of him. The young Slytherin's arm shook as he turned the wand slightly.

The air shifted next to Hermione, and she could feel the warmth emanating from her best friend. "You got my message." His whispered voice sounded relieved. Hermione lifted her wand, casting a muffliato on the area around him and nodded.

"I was in the library. I had to get away from Lavender. Ron's attempting to make nice with me and she thinks that means cheating on her. Let me under the cloak." Harry lifted the cloth, bringing her into the close confines.

Dumbledore was saying something to Draco, trying to calm him down from the action he was about to take.

"Harry, they're going to kill him," whispered Hermione.

Harry nodded, "I know."

The witch looked at her friend, "are you alright with that?"

Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose, "I… I'm not sure. It's because of him though, that I was left in an abusive home. I could have lived with Sirius. I miss Sirius." He looked at Hermione, his eyes bloodshot and his skin pale.

Hermione squeezed his hand, "I miss him too, Harry. But… I want the headmaster dead."

Harry kept quiet for a moment before nodding his head, "what he did… taking your parents away… I guess he has a track record now for creating orphans."

Hermione's heart clenched in pain, "we don't know if they're dead or not." Harry nodded and pulled Hermione into a hug.

"We'll find them."

Above them, the fate of Professor Dumbledore was in the hands of Death Eaters.

"He doesn't have the courage," said Fenrir, his voice making Hermione look up, "let me do it my own way." The masked werewolf moved forward, entrancing Hermione with each step he took. Merlin, she was screwed and the simple action of him moving made her legs clamp together. It took all her willpower to not climb the man right then and there. Irritable at her lack of control, she looked back towards the other Death Eaters.

"No," Professor Snape, stepping in between Fenrir and Dumbledore. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise at the last thing she'd been expecting.

"Why Severus, are you volunteering?" Bella asked licking her lips and bouncing on the balls of her feet. Professor Snape fixed Bella with a cold stare, his eyes burning into the witch, demanding her silence.

"Severus, please," pleaded Dumbledore. The potions professor raised his wand towards the headmaster, causing an irritated Hermione to become irate.

"Like hell you're just going to make it easy!" Hermione snarled, coming quickly up the steps, glaring at each one of the Death Eaters. "Draco Malfoy, you get your arse back up front and do what you were told to do!" Hermione reached Professor Dumbledore and slashed out with claws, catching the professor by the face, "where are my parents?"

Professor Dumbledore didn't move for a moment, even going as far as ignoring the blood now trickling down from the tears in his flesh, then he spoke"I see you've chosen your side, Miss Granger. It's such a shame too. You were always a bright light. You still have good in you, don't let yourself be ruined." The headmaster nodded towards Greyback, "don't become like him."

"It doesn't bloody matter what you think of me. You've manipulated us. All of us. Harry has no figures to look up to and now neither do I." Hermione pointed her wand at the professor, "where are my parents?"

Behind her she could feel the excitement building; Bellatrix was panting like a voyeur, Snape was silent, only the slightest inhalation of breath indicating that he was watching the scene unfold. The others were silent as well but it was Fenrir's reaction that unnerved her the most. Pleasure radiated from him, practically patting her on the back with a murmured 'good job'.

"This is your mate, Fenrir. Why don't you handle this?" Professor Snape finally said, pulling Hermione behind him. She snarled at the Professor, and the other Death Eaters as Fenrir wrapped a strong arm around her, hauling her against him. The Wolf leaned down next to her ear.

"Still yourself and watch," he whispered, making her shiver.

Hermione kept her gaze forward, "Draco has to be the one to do it." The blonde looked at her in surprise, "I've told you how I feel, Malfoy. Do it."

Fenrir stroked Hermione's side as she stared at Draco, "seriously, just… just do it. He isn't going to tell us what he did with my parents."

"We'll see about that," murmured Draco, facing the Professor, "Headmaster, where are Granger's parents?"

Professor Dumbledore remained silent.

"Very well." Draco flicked his wand and the Professor began screaming. Bellatrix cackled, jumping up and down like a pogo stick while clapping her hands. Hermione stared at Draco in shock as he applied the curse like an expert. The boy that she'd punched in the face in third year, that she'd taunted a few months ago, the one she thought was a coward, was proving her wrong. Horrified, Hermione pressed back into Fenrir to stave off the unearthly sounding wails the Professor was making. Fenrir grinned beneath his mask as the She-wolf pushed herself into his chest, a shudder of revulsion going through her. He leaned down next to her ear.

"You'll get used to it, She-wolf. Killing is in your blood," he murmured.

"Killing," Hermione said softly as Dumbledore writhed on the ground, "I have no problem with killing. It's the torture that seems to affect me."

"Don't you want to find out where your parents are?" Fenrir asked as Draco lifted the curse and knelt next to the headmaster.

"Yes," Hermione bit out. She sneered at the headmaster as he looked up at Draco.

"Draco, you are still good… don't do this. Go to the Order, they can save you and your family."

Draco ignored the Professor and tilted his head, "where are Granger's parents?" Professor Dumbledore sighed in resignation as he looked at the young Slytherin.

"The Granger's are gone and no mortal will ever be able to find them," murmured the Professor. Hermione felt her mouth open but couldn't hear the screams of sorrow coming from her throat. Like being in a vacuum chamber, Hermione couldn't hear anything. She felt the pounding of her heart in her chest and the blood rushing through her veins. She certainly felt when Fenrir and Professor Snape restrained her, and she saw the green light come from Draco's wand, hitting the headmaster in the chest as he stood up, staggering against the wall. Sound came rushing into her ears as the old man toppled off the tower falling to the grass below.

"MURDERER!" She screamed when Fenrir and Professor Snape released her, rushing to the edge of the tower while Bellatrix danced behind her, clapping her hands and professing her undying familial love and pride for her nephew. She could see Dumbledore's body at the base of the tower, twisted in awkward angles. Snarling, Hermione spit once off the tower, hoping that the saliva would land on the headmaster.

A hand wrapped around her arms, gentle though insistent that she move. Hermione looked up into Fenrir's face. "We've much to discuss, She-wolf. Give me your wand." He held his hand out.

"Not bloody likely. Clearly I've things to be doing like arranging a fucking funeral!" She jerked out of his hold, rushing past the Death Eaters, only to be suspended in midair by a wave from Fenrir's wand.

"Let me go, Greyback," she said softly, her glare piercing the other wolf like a dagger.

"I think not. After the stunt you pulled last time, I believe it's time for you to fall into line." Fenrir waved his wand and she was thrown over his shoulder, growling all the while.

"Oh, does the widdle She-wolf think that she's all big and bad?" Bellatrix giggled as Fenrir took Hermione's wand from her, smacked her on the arse, and pocketed the wand.

"You even breathe wrong in my direction, Lestrange, and I'll eat your intestines." Hermione growled as they passed the spot where Harry was hiding. Hermione looked in that direction for a split second, willing Harry to stay put. Of course it was unlikely that he would, as he was the classic Gryffindor. Still, Hermione could hope.

"Easy there, She-wolf. You and Bellatrix have unfinished business, but it won't be settled tonight," said Fenrir as he tried to get her to sit still. Hermione was having none of it though. Bellatrix taunted her all the way down to the Great Hall, where she began to blow up the house point hourglasses. Hermione kicked at Fenrir as the windows were shattered by the insane witch; she needed to get away. She knew that if Fenrir removed the spell masking his scent that she would be done for and that was something that she wasn't ready to have happen just yet.

As the glass came falling down around them, the doors of the Great Hall blasted open to reveal Pip in all his elf glory, screaming a battle cry while wielding two long daggers. Behind him stood the Order, wands at the ready.

"Oh for fucks' sake!" Snarled Hermione. Bellatrix raised her wand, causing the entrance to explode around the Order as they charged in, Ron among them. Hermione used the distraction, slithering down Fenrir's back and biting him clean on the arse. The werewolf howled and dropped Hermione onto the ground. She crawled away from him as the skirmish ensued, ducking spells and hexes in order to make her way towards the doors that would lead her outside.

She vaguely heard the screams of Bill Weasley and the howl of Fenrir as she got to the door. A searing pain shot up her leg, fading into a blood pounding throb. Hermione glanced down at her ankle to see blood blossoming over her skin and a piece of glass protruding from her flesh. Growling, she ripped the glass out of her skin, watching as the flow of blood began to ebb. She didn't have her wand, but her skin would take care of itself, she just had to leave before Fenrir could get to her. The werewolf was going to be livid this time.

"Pip!" she cried through the din of spells sizzling off the walls. The house elf appeared next to her, blood splattered onto his face and a blade raised to protect himself.

"Pip is here, Mistress!" the elf said, grabbing Hermione's arm.

"Get me out of here."

Pip nodded, apparating Hermione out of the Great Hall and onto the lawn outside the entrance. "Mistress, what do I do with the wolf?"

"Nothing, just keep everyone from killing one another. Don't let the Death Eaters take any prisoners." Hermione moved to stand, wincing as her injury protested.

"Mistress must heal! Pip will find the potions!" The elf turned back to the castle but Hermione grabbed him in time.

"No! Just… I can't stay here. Greyback is too close and I don't know what he's got planned but he isn't happy with me. I can assure you. Go and help the others. I will call for you when I'm sure that it's safe. Alright? And please, keep Harry safe." Hermione wiped the perspiration off her face, "ok?"

Pip stared at his mistress, slowly nodding, "Pip will do as Mistress asks. Pip is loyal to the Nathair." The elf bowed and disappeared in time for the whole front of the castle to be engulfed in a black cloud of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. Through the black, Hermione saw the Death Eaters emerging, shooting spells into the darkness behind them. Among them was Fenrir, his lips curled into a snarl and his face covered in blood. Hermione turned, limping as fast as she could into the forest.

The howl that erupted behind her sent chills into her bones. She moved faster, enough adrenaline coursing through her to minimize the pain. Breaking into the trees, Hermione made a beeline for the thicker woods. Ducking into the brush, she moved while she heard the sound of boots disappear entirely to become paws against the dirt. Hermione's wolf came forward, shredding the clothing around her as she ran away from the raging Alpha. Her paws touched the soil, kicking it up behind her. Tripping over a root that was stuck out of the ground, Hermione winced as her wound reopened. A yelp ripped from her throat as she found herself planting her paws into the sediment, trying to regain traction before falling.

Growling reached her ears, making her look up. The slightly yellowed fangs, exposed by a snarling Fenrir greeted her vision. Hermione snarled back, moving to go up on all fours. Fenrir snapped at her, trying to keep her down. Hackles rising, Hermione nipped at Fenrir's chin and that was all that it took for the Alpha wolf to try and pin her to the ground. Hermione went for his neck, making Fenrir practically lay on top of her to get her to stop moving.

Hermione changed back, noting his warm fur against her bareskin. "Let me up! Now!" Fenrir glared at her, his face morphing back into a very angry looking man. He scowled at Hermione.

"She-wolf, you've disrespected your Alpha more than once and you will be suitably punished," he bit out, pressing her into the dirt with his arms.

Hermione growled at him, "my Alpha? Ha! You have to earn that! Just like you have to earn me!" She pushed at his arms and bucked her hips up to dislodge his weight. Fenrir grunted at the force, taken aback at her strength. He narrowed his eyes, renewing his grip on her and disapparated.

Hermione kept fighting after the pull of apparition landed them in a meadow encompassed by trees. "Let me go!" She ripped her hands free from him, moving to run away only to find that her surroundings were completely unfamiliar. She turned and looked at Fenrir.

"Where the bloody hell are we?"

The werewolf took a step towards her, "Ulbha, Ulva to those that don't speak the language. We're home."

Hermione took a step back as Fenrir summoned two wands from thin air, "I'm taking this damn cloaking spell off both of us." He waved his wand, then hers and she was impacted with the scent of him. Anger, relief, and hidden beneath the scent of forest and spice was desire. Hermione practically melted and the reaction made her livid. She continued to back up from Fenrir, her mind going through an escape plan while her wolf begged her to stay. Ulva was on the western coast of Scotland, and it was an island… and this island didn't look like anything in her geography books from primary school.

She spun, looking at the trees, a startled yelp escaping her lips when Fenrir threw his head back and howled. Merlin, she wanted to join in but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She just couldn't. It would be giving in. Her surprise turned to horror when hundreds of howls answered his, filling the night with a chorus that would make the bravest of idiots freeze in his tracks.

Slowly, glowing eyes appeared through the trees, attached to shadows of varying sizes. Wolves emerged from the forest, slowly stalking towards the two alphas. Each wolf kept their head lowered as they entered the clearing and Hermione found herself backing up towards Fenrir.

"They've come to greet you," whispered Fenrir.

"There are so many," she responded, nerves filling her voice. The last thing Fenrir needed was for her to take flight when the leaders of the packs had come to pay their respects to their new queen. He put a firm hand on her shoulder, daring her to push him away.

A brown wolf approached, creeping through the grass with caution as he reached Fenrir. The Alpha was relieved to see his second in command, the man was an amazing tracker but also capable of calming even the most fearful wolf and that was what Hermione needed right now. Fenrir wasn't about to deal with her insubordination in front of the now it was enough that she'd remained beneath him for those few seconds in the Forbidden Forest.

"Caelen," Fenrir rumbled. The brown wolf nodded, turning into a man with a thick beard and a wicked gleam in his eyes. Hermione pressed into Fenrir further still staring at the wolves. "She-wolf, this is Caelen, my beta and second in command. Caelen, this is Hermione."

Jolted out of her stupor, Hermione looked at Caelen. "Hello." Her voice was soft as she extended her hand out, not knowing what else to do in order to not look like a fool. Caelen looked at her, tilted his head and grinned. He gripped her hand and shook it, then bowed his head towards her.

"My Queen, it is a pleasure to meet the one who survived the Alpha's bite. Welcome to Ulva." Hermione stared at him, then at the surrounding wolves as they each took human form, one by one bowing to her. All were completely naked, save paintings that adorned their skin in swirls and hexagons.

"Welcome home, Hermione." Fenrir whispered, digging his claws into her shoulder. Hermione gaped. She was in deeper trouble than she ever imagined.


End file.
